


Day By Day

by CapsuleCorp



Category: One Piece
Genre: Action/Adventure, Anal Sex, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Pre-Time Skip, Sex, Violence, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-30 00:54:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 161,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3917125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapsuleCorp/pseuds/CapsuleCorp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Pinky Island and Gloom Island were close enough for Zoro and Sanji to have actually met up and begun to make their way toward Sabaody to keep the promise? Plays loose and fast with canon details but still very set in canon. SPOILERS for One Piece, particularly Thriller Bark and Marineford arcs. Finished/first posted in 2012.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Pink. Why was there so damn much _pink_ everywhere? It just went on and on, every single thing on the damn island was one of a multitude of shades of pinks. The sight of it under the bright sun was enough to drive a man insane. And then there was the _smell_ – a million floral scents which, alone, might have been nice, but mingled together made for a sickly candy smell that nearly overpowered one who breathed too deeply. To Sanji, it was proof of the adage that too much of a good thing spoiled it. He vowed that upon escaping this island, he would never again wish that the scent of mandarin oranges that lingered on Nami, or the vague flower scent that told him Robin was near, could be multiplied around him. He valued those singular scents now that his every waking minute was filled with a riot of them.

At the moment, he sat on the edge of the embankment with his feet dangling over, his back to the violently-colored island so he could soothe his sight with the cool blue of the ocean. It was his third full day there, and he was already reaching the limit of his sanity. He had a grand total of three cigarettes left, one of which was currently dangling from his lips, unlit. He was at the point at which he had to make a crucial decision between slowly going insane or taking assistance from the very people he was trying his damnedest to avoid. It was difficult to say which would be worse – suffering withdrawal, and then hunger and thirst, until he lost his mind, or surrendering to his basic needs and crawling back to the inhabited parts of the island to seek supplies from the men-turned-women who wanted nothing more than to get their hands on him and squeeze him into a dress.

As stated in the letter to Nami and Robin he had been composing in his head, Sanji was in hell. His gratitude to “Elizabeth” for tending to his wounds had been quickly and horrifically squashed by the discovery of the nature of Kamabakka Kingdom, at which point he had fled in sheer panic, getting as far as the beach before having to completely circumnavigate the island with a pack of crazy transvestites on his heels. After he finally lost them in the wee hours of the night, Sanji kept walking along the beach, having nowhere to stop and sleep and afraid that if he did, they would find him and fulfill his nightmares. By the time the sun came up over the rim of the ocean and sparked the mind-searing glow of pink all around him, he had gone completely around the entire island and knew there was no way for him to leave. There were no ships, although there were signs of an old quay on one of the northern beaches. Obviously people arrived here, and the residents got supplies somehow – since there wasn’t a single farm or grove of fruit trees anywhere on the island. But for the moment, Sanji was trapped. If he went anywhere near the “ladies” of the island, they would try once again to get him to accept that he was one of them – which he wasn’t, no doubt about it. Yet, they held all the answers to his questions, all the supplies, and probably the means to actually leave.

The only spot of good fortune in that first day was the discovery of a small house very close to the sea’s edge which seemed to be uninhabited. It gave Sanji a place to finally lay down and sleep, behind a locked door to protect himself. Upon further inspection, there was a closet full of men’s clothing in various sizes in the bedroom, and a pantry with a limited amount of non-perishable food items. Nothing with which to make a complete meal, but enough to quiet his stomach for the day. He debated drinking the water from the fresh springs inland, in the off chance doing so might cause him to come down with the same affliction as the rest of the locals, but in the end he had no choice – he knew how to live without food but water? Lack of fresh water would kill him in three days. All the same, he decided to boil it before drinking. Oddly enough, the house was like any others that he had run past on the island – it wasn’t shaped nor painted garishly like Elizabeth’s, but it had the fuel and plumbing amenities all set up already. Sanji surmised that it might have been a residence for someone who had come to the island but balked at the welcome, and tried to live apart from the transvestites until he, too, had finally been overcome and moved away to join them. Maybe more than one poor fellow had met that fate, judging by the variety of clean clothes in the closet. Sanji only let himself surrender to the shelter, but not to the island itself. He slept, ate, bathed, and put on something besides his ripped, blood-spattered suit, and smoked one of his last remaining cigarettes before sleeping again.

It really was sad that a day later, he was sitting on the embankment overlooking the sea, silently considering just how long it would take for the place to drive him mad. The sea breeze and blue waters calmed him considerably, but he knew that if he didn’t resupply the little house sooner or later, he would be in trouble. But he didn’t want to risk the overzealous okama getting their hands on him. He literally shivered and shuddered in disgust at the thought; Sanji loved women, the very idea of them, but peeling away the outer appearance to find a man was worse than hell to him. What he really couldn’t take was the _lie_ – the presentation of one thing that belied a complete opposite underneath. If he wanted a man, he would seek an actual man, not a man pretending to be a woman. But nobody knew he would even consider that potential alternative, he took great pains to keep those thoughts buried deep inside. He shouldn’t have to even entertain them right now, there were more important things to worry about. Not just survival, and escape, but return. The crew. Sabaody Archipelago. As he sat there on the shoreline, feeling the hot sun beating on the back of his neck, Sanji took the scrap of paper from his pocket and held it on his palm, shielding it from the wind with his other hand. It inched ever-so-slightly toward his wrist – the _Thousand Sunny_ , the crew, and everything normal lay in that direction. A fat lot of good the Vivre card did him, he complained to himself, when he didn’t have a boat to climb into so he could set out on the same path. He lifted his head and looked off the way the card was moving, and just about tumbled into the sea in surprise.

There was a boat landing. And the locals were just about to pounce on it.

 

The small crowd of dress-clad transvestites cooed and inched toward the battered little boat, reaching out manly hands with gaudily-painted nails to grab the gunwales and pull it further up onto the sand. At closer inspection, there wasn’t much left of the vessel – the sail was in tatters and the hull had long, raking splinters in it as if made by teeth or claws. The shelter-shed that once rested against the mast had been smashed wide open, and the ballast barrels were gone. There was a passenger, though, and the faux-girls were just leaning in to see what poor refugee from the male-dominated world had striven so hard to make their way to the kingdom where they would be accepted and cared for by their own kind when Sanji’s shout startled the lot of them. “Oi!” he blazed as he rushed towards them, pounding down the beach at full speed. “Dibs on the boat! Don’t let it get away, I want that boat!”

Fortunately for him, their ringleader was not among them at the moment. The others living on the girls’ island tended to be shy without someone to back them up, so Sanji’s sudden appearance coupled with his angry shout made them all shrink back from the boat. At least, by now it had been dragged up onto the beach and stood no chance of washing back out to sea, but the way it creaked every time a wave lapped at it, there wasn’t going to be another voyage in its future regardless. It had clearly been through a hell of its own and limped up as far as the Pink Island to spit out its single passenger and then roll over to die. Just as Sanji reached the scene, said passenger abruptly sat up and stretched, yawning widely. It was Sanji’s second flabbergasting surprise of the day. Green-haired, tan-skinned Roronoa Zoro scratched the back of his neck and cocked a perplexed look at the bizarre collection of people gathered around him, uttering nothing more than a hum of curiosity under his breath.

It took all of Sanji’s energy and composure not to collapse in a heap right there on the beach in the midst of his adversaries. His hands clenched into fists at his side, and the stir of emotions roiled up inside him until he burst out angrily, “What the hell do you think you’re doing, you stupid _marimo_ -head!”

Zoro’s gaze swung towards him, his eyebrows knitting into the same expression of dumbfounded (and slightly irate) confusion as Sanji’s face wore. “Wha...? _You?_ What the hell are you doing here, pervert coo...” He glanced back at the others, and superficially noted the dresses and wigs first before realizing not was all what it seemed. His anger at being unceremoniously insulted gave way to slow contemplation, and then a wicked smirk. “Huh. I didn’t know you swung that way.”

“I don’t swing that way, shut the hell up!” Sanji snarled at him, too boggled and annoyed to be defensive. “You’ve got to get me out of here – raise sail and let’s go! Don’t even stop to get out, we’re leaving this goddamn island right now!”

Zoro sat rubbing his head, filtering his short, green hair through his fingers as he took in the scene. The island...was really too pink to be looking at so soon after waking up. The “women” were definitely shrinking back from Sanji, although their interest was starting to overcome their shyness and they were slowly edging back toward his boat. Just then, the rudder and half of the stern gave way and fell back into the water with a splash. He looked at it, and then at Sanji. “I don’t think I’m going anywhere in this heap.”

The crash of the boat falling apart alerted Sanji to the rest of its appearance, and his shoulders sagged. It was actually a miracle that the vessel hadn’t sunk miles out, in that condition – Zoro was astonishingly lucky. “What did you _do_?” he moaned, already grieving his one chance to escape. “This is why we can’t leave you to your own devices – you wander across the sea just as lost as you do on land! _Now_ how are we going to get out of here?”

One of the locals edged forward, effecting as feminine a falsetto as possible. “Um, you know...you’re welcome to stay, here.”

Pushing himself to his feet, Zoro leaned heavily against the mast for a moment before hopping down onto the beach. Even as he did, more boards collapsed out of the port-side hull, and the tatters of the sail pulled away from the mast and went flying off in the wind. Sanji noted privately that the man himself looked about as bad as his boat. He was swathed in bandages underneath his striped shirt, some of which had been ripped, and a fresh scratch ran along his exposed upper arm. His clothes were dirty and he looked exhausted, though the three swords rested comfortably at his hip where they ought to be. He ruffled his own hair again and asked plainly, “Where are we?”

“This is Kamabakka Kingdom,” one of the others responded. “If you were trying to reach us, then luck smiles upon you! You’ve made it, just in time!”

“Your poor ship has brought you to us, safe and sound!” another cooed.

“Ohh no you don’t...” Sanji put himself abruptly between Zoro and the “ladies,” scowling. “How many times do I have to tell you people? We both have landed here by _accident_. Don’t you get it? We didn’t mean to be here!”

As one, the gaggle of transvestites recoiled back from him and then fled, overcome by their own shyness in the face of two actual men. Zoro heaved a sigh. “Way to go. You didn’t even give them a chance to tell us they have another boat.”

Sanji sighed back. “They don’t, I’ve already looked for one.” He turned slowly, slipping his hands into his trouser pockets. He finally took a long, appraising look at Zoro, allowing himself to feel the slightest sense of relief at actually seeing a fellow crewmate – even if it was the last one he would have wanted. Why couldn’t it have been Nami, or Robin? “You look like shit.”

Zoro gazed back at him, resting his elbow on the hilt of Wadou Ichimonji. “Kamabakka Island, huh?”

Sanji’s face twisted back into a scowl. “It’s not like I chose to come here!” he growled. “This is where that bastard Kuma sent me! He must have thought it was real funny to drop me in a land of fake women.” He gave another one of those visible shivers and shook his head violently. “It’s a nightmare! There’s not a single actual woman on this island…and no way off, either.” He clawed a hand through his blond hair, breathing another sigh. “They’ve all fled here from other places and sequestered themselves on this island, I don’t think they can fathom the idea of someone wanting to leave.”

“Well, this isn’t going to get us off the island.” Zoro thumbed over his shoulder at the sad little boat, which gave one last creak and then completely collapsed in on itself with a crash, the mast teetering and then thudding onto the sand with a sense of eerie finality. “It took a beating from a nasty sea monkey in the middle of the night. Wasn’t a thing I could do except defend myself.”

Sanji fisted his hands in his hair for a moment, and then gave up with a wilt. “Come on,” he muttered. “There’s a place up the shore where we can sit tight for now. You can tell me all about it later.”

He trudged back up the beach the way he had come, toward the little house half-hidden in a spray of pink shrubbery. Zoro fell into step just behind him, silently keeping pace all the way there. He tended not to prattle with a bunch of questions, but he was observing as they went. Sanji led the way inside and then locked the door behind Zoro to protect them both from the locals. “Take a bath and get into something clean,” he gruffly instructed. “I’ll make you something to eat in the meantime.”

Zoro blinked at him, but there was a sense of fatigue from his journey and lingering wounds that he couldn’t deny, nagging at him and suggesting to him that Sanji’s plan was a great idea. He unhooked the strap that held his three blades from his haramaki and set them gently against a wall, trudging past Sanji without a word and finding the bathroom for himself. Meanwhile, Sanji went into the pantry and rooted out the last of the stored sundries which could be made into something edible – there was flour and even sugar, oats and grain, and some jars of pickled vegetables and preserves, but he honestly needed fresh meats, milk, and eggs to turn it into an actual meal. At the moment, he couldn’t even bake bread. By the time Zoro emerged from the bath and came into the main room clad in clean, dry trousers and carrying a fresh shirt, Sanji had managed a spicy soup and grilled some fish he had caught that morning. Zoro paused, gauged the meal and the house in general, and then came up behind his companion. “Hey. You wanna wrap me back up, first?”

“Wrap...” Sanji turned toward him, and only then noticed what the bandages had been concealing. Zoro had been beaten to a pulp when they were attacked at Sabaody, he knew, but those injuries had been somewhat tended by somebody. His body was a mess of half-healed wounds on top of half-healed wounds, some of which might have been irritated by the haphazard journey in the tiny boat and being attacked by sea monkeys. Sanji’s lips twisted in a disapproving frown, but he took the rolls of bandages Zoro had in his opposite hand and immediately began tending to the worst of the bruises and lacerations. What a time for them to be separated from the crew, he grumbled to himself, knowing full well that his efforts were nothing compared to Chopper’s quality care. Zoro was probably going to end up with more scars after this. To his credit, the swordsman sat still and silent while Sanji worked, hardly twitching an eyebrow and patiently moving to assist with a finger to hold down the ends of bandages so Sanji could tie them. As he finished and stepped back, Zoro pulled the shirt he had found over his head to cover the majority of the fresh bandages and tied his bandanna back around his left arm. “Who wrapped you up in the first place?” the cook wondered, moving back around him to take a seat opposite at the tiny table.

Zoro was already halfway into one of the fish filets. “You remember that creepy girl, who worked for Moria? On _Thriller Bark_? With the negative ghosts,” he explained between bites. “The one Nami said got vanished by Kuma, too.”

“Yeah...” Sanji’s eyebrow curled downward into a confused frown. “Where the hell did you run into her?”

“Some gloomy island,” Zoro claimed with his mouth full of the stewed vegetables from the soup. “I don’t know why he sent me there, either. But she found me and tried to keep me as her…I don’t know, pet or servant or something. It was ridiculous.” He kept eating at a steady pace, his attention mostly on the food even though he had a story to tell. “At least she wrapped up my wounds. But I got away from her and jumped on the first dinghy I could find in the harbor…that was what, day before yesterday? I don’t know. It’s kind of a blur after that.” He swished his spoon around in the soup. “Not bad, but not up to your usual standards.”

“I’m kind of working with limited resources, here,” Sanji snapped, a little more harshly than necessary, before easing back again. He had eaten once already that morning, but he accompanied Zoro at the table with tea (at least that was safe) and a little cup of the soup. “This is not a place I want to be stuck, you know. This house was abandoned, so there wasn’t much in the way of supplies when I got here and I’ve already been through two days’ worth. Either we find a way off the island tonight, or I have to go and find a way of getting fresh supplies from... _them_.” Another shudder.

Zoro lifted his head long enough to catch Sanji’s reaction. “What’s with them, anyway?”

“I don’t know, something about being ‘girls at heart’ and using this place as their sanctuary,” Sanji grumbled into his tea. “That’s as much as I got out of them before I was running for my damn life. They tried to make me one of them. Good thing I shook off the pursuit and found this house or I’d still be running.”

The mental image of Sanji in a dress that flashed across his mind made Zoro snort with suppressed laughter, and then make a face as he grossed himself out. “You wouldn’t make it as a girl,” he scoffed under his breath before going silent and finishing his lunch.

Sanji didn’t argue the point, though he did give his companion a withering glare before hiding behind his tea and soup. They didn’t need to tell each other longer stories than that, it was enough information to gather that both had been through unpleasant, almost wretched circumstances before reuniting in this oddest of places. Neither said so, but both were privately glad to see the other. Both probably told themselves it was simply because they were crewmates, and knew that if it came to more fighting they could trust each other, but the real reasons were buried far deeper. Ever since finding him bloodied and near death after the warlord left them on _Thriller Bark_ , Sanji had been harboring a private worry over Zoro. He didn’t dare admit to himself that it had started before then, that there was a reason he tried to give his own life so Zoro wouldn’t have to. But that battle had scarred them both in ways that couldn’t be seen, and even though on the surface they had gone back to their usual bicker and banter, underneath lay a tenuous connection that might, in this new situation, be their salvation. They would now have to rely solely on each other, two comrades against the world, in order to find their way back to the ship and the rest of the crew. For some reason, Sanji was somewhat glad for that. They could both protect themselves, but he always did better when there was someone who needed him. Until he was fully healed, Zoro needed his assistance, and even after that would need him to provide food. Conversely, Sanji needed Zoro for stability, familiarity, and other intangible things. An extra set of hands to handle a boat, as well. Their chance of success went up exponentially for having each other. Yes, that was it, he told himself. A crew of two always stood a better chance of survival than a man alone.

As he was clearing away the dishes, Zoro sat back and looked up at him. “So Kuma got you, too,” he stated bluntly in a low tone.

With his back to his companion, Sanji responded in the same tone. “Yeah. Brook and Usopp, too.”

Zoro digested that with his usual moment of silence. “No way to know about the rest of the crew, is there?”

“Not that I can think of.” The cook turned back towards him. “The Vivre cards only lead us back to Rayleigh, not each other. You turning up here is a stroke of damn luck.”

“Lucky for you that this island was between me and Rayleigh,” Zoro said with the faintest of smirks touching the corner of his mouth.

Sanji rolled his eyes with a huge snort. “Please. You can’t find your way through an archipelago where every grove is numbered, there’s no way you could navigate yourself from one island to another. You’re just lucky that boat held together long enough to get here or you’d be drowned in the middle of the sea right now.” He dug in his pocket for his tobacco purse, drew out the cigarette he had been chewing on earlier, and stuck it back in his mouth without lighting it. He had swiftly stowed it when the boat had appeared, planning to save it for later just in case he really did run out of cigarettes – these last three were too precious to be spat out and lost. “So. We’re short on options.”

“I noticed.” Zoro rubbed his forehead tiredly. “Either way, we’re not getting off this island today. I’m exhausted.”

“Yeah. I figured.” Turning so that all Zoro could see was the sheaf of hair covering his face, Sanji leaned on the prep counter that separated the kitchen from the rest of the room. “I suppose we’ll be in better shape to think and plan if we’ve got some real food in us.”

“What, that wasn’t real food?”

“I can do better.”

Zoro pushed his chair back and rose slowly. Being finally stationary so long, especially after a hot bath, had stiffened his aching muscles a bit. “I’ll leave that to you, then. I’m gonna go take a long nap.”

“What the...?” Sanji started up and almost lit into him, but there was no sense in arguing. Zoro was already headed toward the bedroom. “Fine, but I’m waking you up when I get back!” he called out at the other’s retreating back. “I’m going to need a hand around here!”

Zoro waved over his shoulder to acknowledge that he heard, regardless of whether he accepted the plan. Sanji glowered at him, but as soon as the bedroom door closed, he turned to take stock of the kitchen. Truthfully, he knew very well that in Zoro’s current state, he needed rest in order to recover. He could rail against the swordsman’s supposed laziness all he wanted, but they both needed to be in top shape before setting sail for Sabaody. That much was the naked truth. Making himself a short list, Sanji slipped what pocket change he had into his tobacco pouch and set out on a search for supplies. He didn’t think there was a market on the pink island, but they got their foodstuffs and sundries from somewhere. That many people, regardless of the reason for being here, could not survive and thrive and have such fine clothing and housing all on their own – it had to be shipped in, somehow. And therein might also lay the means for escape.

In the end, Sanji was out for several hours, mostly due to skulking around the island in ways that kept him from being spotted by the residents. He had to keep off the flagstone pathways, even if they were well-made and led one anywhere he needed to go. There wasn’t a market to be seen in the cluster of buildings that passed for a village, so he had to decide whether to raid the houses or actually show his face and beg or borrow. He almost fell victim to his own chivalry, but catching a couple of the would-be womenfolk talking about the new arrivals in their gravelly voices and suggesting that if they just gave them time, they too would come around to accept their inner selves...well, that was the last straw that pushed Sanji back to his pirate side. Nothing in his set of principles prevented him from stealing food, particularly when he slipped into one structure that appeared to be a restaurant or bar and realized just how much they had in the way of supplies. He left a couple of beli on the bar in exchange for the bottle of very quality sake he pilfered, at least, but made no excuse for the food. Just to minimize his chances of being caught, he made sure to nick a little something from a number of houses all in a row – a couple of eggs here, a slab of pork there, and so on. Despite trying to put on the appearance and affectation of women, the okama living there clearly still had the appetites of men. There was plenty to go around. Sanji had scored himself several days’ worth of excess supplies _and_ a fresh pack of cigarettes by the time he snuck back to the house on the shore, pausing only to give a mournful sigh at the sight of the debris left from the destroyed boat that could be seen a short distance away. It really was a shame that his hopes had to be dashed that way, by casting up the blasted swordsman and leaving them both stranded. Shaking his head, he ducked inside and, contrary to his earlier threat, put everything away and had himself a well-overdue smoke before actually going to wake Zoro up.

Judging by the way he lay with his hands clasped on his chest, snoring lightly, Zoro clearly had not a care in the world that they were essentially shipwrecked on this damned pink island. Sanji was always slightly irritated by the man’s ability to sleep just about anywhere, _and_ sleep through dangerous situations, even if this time he knew it was essential. That was when he realized they were going to have a fight on their hands come nightfall – the tiny bedroom had only one bed. Never mind that the abandoned house lacked extra blankets or bedding, there wasn’t even room on the floor for another to stretch out. Sighing, Sanji decided to save that argument for later and roust Zoro out for now. “Oi,” he complained, grabbing one of the pillows and smacking the swordsman in the face with it. “Naptime’s over, sleeping beauty. I need a hand.”

Ordinarily, Zoro probably could have slept through that, but the pillow in the face was enough of an affront to wake him with a snort. He grabbed the pillow and tore it out of Sanji’s hand before he could get hit with it a second time. “What the hell’s your problem?” he growled, throwing the pillow aside and sitting up.

“I need you to gather more firewood so I can cook and heat the water,” the chef replied simply, turning and heading for the door. “Maybe salvage what’s left of the boat while you’re at it.”

Zoro watched him go and then swung his feet over the edge of the bed, giving himself an extra minute to fully wake up and gauge his state. He was feeling considerably better, so he guessed that he had been out for a lot longer than it seemed. In fact, the sunshine coming in through the window was clearly stronger – the sun was sinking into the west. Doing his best not to scratch at any of his bandages, Zoro stretched his limbs and tested the limits of his movement and strength. It was much better than before. He slipped back into his boots and meandered through the tiny house, locating Sanji by his noisy rummaging in the kitchen before silently drifting outside to do as requested. There were no supplies to be gained by salvaging the boat, but plenty of wood that could be burned, maybe a coil of rope or two. Zoro dragged the decking, mast, and anything else dry right up to the house to be used right away, and then turned what was left keel-up so the ribs and hull planking could dry out, up on the sand above the tide line. That should provide them with enough wood for at least two or three days, without even having to take an axe to any trees or brush. If they were still on the island after that, well, they would have to put more work into it, but even Zoro figured there would be bigger problems if they were still stuck more than three days there. He didn’t care one way or the other about the locals, not the way Sanji did, but he couldn’t stomach the sheer pinkness of it all. A butterfly floated past his face while he stood there wiping the sweat from his forehead, and he rolled his eyes magnificently at the pink and white hearts on its wings. _Definitely can’t take much of this island for very long._

He went back inside to find Sanji hard at work, though it took him a bit to realize exactly what was going on. Kitchen matters were mostly one big mystery to Zoro; he understood enough to know that the oven had to be hot for Sanji to cook and that was about it. Upon closer inspection, he could see that the chef was baking bread – or about to, as he had only just gotten the oven hot enough for the baking process. He had the sleeves of the borrowed sweatshirt shoved up to his elbows and a towel draped over his shoulder, though that hadn’t saved the shirt from getting dusted with flour. Zoro watched him slide the pans into the oven with a triumphant flourish and then wipe his hands on the towel, at which point Sanji noticed him standing there. “I’ll start dinner in a bit,” he promised. “I need to take a break, first.”

“It’s that time already, huh?” Zoro shrugged slightly and glanced out the westward-facing windows. They could see a sliver of the coast before it bent around the island. Everything in view was still so bloody pink, moreso with the sinking sun. “I guess it’s later than I thought.”

“You slept half the day away,” Sanji reasoned, pouring two glasses of the other thing he had been busy making while Zoro was bent in hard labor – fresh fruit juice, made with the water he had purified himself. He flopped into a chair and propped one foot up on the table. “Must be nice. Sleep, then eat, then go back to sleep. You’d better not get used to it. I’m not your damn butler.”

“Funny. You usually dress like one.” Zoro took the second glass and heaved himself into the other chair. “You couldn’t refuse me a meal even if you wanted to. It’s in your nature.”

“Damn it.” Sanji sipped at his juice; it was blatantly true. “Just keep the furnace stoked and you’ll have hot meals.”

“For how long?” Zoro took a drink as well, savoring the mingled flavors and thinking that Sanji couldn’t do anything simply after all. Even a cool drink was special and well-crafted. “From your greeting earlier I’d guess you don’t want to settle down here for a while.”

“Hell no.” Sanji took his foot down and turned more toward his companion, folding his arms on the table instead. “It’s like this. I’ve been around the whole island, and there’s no ships of their own anywhere. No signs they even have some stored away on high ground. But these crazy assholes aren’t magically weaving silk dresses by themselves. They’re getting supplied somehow.”

Zoro regarded him for a moment. “So you figure on waiting until the next supply ship passes and hitching a ride on it,” he noted.

“If we have to,” Sanji grumbled. “But if I can find how they put in their cargo requests, I’m more interested in calling the supply ship to come as soon as possible. I won’t wait for weeks because the cargo ship has a routine or something.” His face darkened with a glare. “We can’t afford to wait.”

Again, Zoro sat quietly and appraised him before responding. “The rest of the crew can take care of themselves. Luffy’s with them. He’ll watch out for them.”

“What if he couldn’t?” Sanji fretted. His thoughts had only tangentially touched on these worries in the past couple of days, but suddenly they all crashed down on him at once. “Multiple Kumas – or the Pacifistas or whatever they called them – and a damn admiral? That was the first time Luffy ever sounded a retreat in the middle of a fight,” he added, his voice going quiet. “I didn’t think I’d ever see the day. We went up against the damn Buster Call, and he didn’t flinch.”

“Hey.” Zoro’s voice was firm, but not angry, as he interrupted. Sanji looked up to find him gazing back with level eyes. “If there’s one thing Luffy knows, it’s when to fight and when not to. As it is, Kuma only sent some of us away, to other islands – he could have killed us, but he didn’t.”

Sanji’s worried expression eased a little. “Yeah…that’s kind of weird that he didn’t...”

The swordsman scratched at the back of his neck. “So Luffy was retreating, the last you saw him? He wasn’t doing something stupid like trying to stand up to them so the rest of us could get away?”

Sanji shook his head. “No, he was running too. With Nami.” He bit his lip briefly, but the sentiment passed. “The old man was the one covering our retreat.”

“Then they should be fine.” Zoro drank as if to seal his statement as fact. “Our job is to get back to the _Thousand Sunny_ as quickly as possible, so they don’t worry about us too much. So.” He shifted in his chair to face Sanji, plopping his nearly-empty glass demandingly on the table between them. “First thing in the morning. We hunt down the supply route and figure out how to get on it before this stupid pink island drives us both insane.”

Sanji held his confident gaze for a moment before sweeping up the glass and going to refill it. “And pray to whatever sea gods might care that it doesn’t mean waiting a week.”

It was a simple plan, for now, but the only one they could make. That left them the rest of the night to stop thinking about it and instead see to their basic needs. The scent of baking bread was just beginning to fill the little house, a good signal for Sanji to get to work on the rest of dinner. Now that he wasn’t stinting and had enough supplies to take care of them both, he went a little overboard, putting together a meal that anyone else would consider normal, if fancy – but for two shipwrecked pirates was a feast. Just before digging in, he presented the bottle of sake he had “bought” as the special treat for the night. The sun had set and a cool sea breeze filtered in through the windows by the time they sat at table, but there wasn’t much to do afterward besides clean up and go to bed anyway. Over dinner each shared a more complete tale of what had happened prior to meeting up on the beach that morning, and Sanji told Zoro as much as he could remember of the details of how the fight was progressing before he vanished like the others. Neither wanted to admit that they did worry a little about the rest of the crew, whether Kuma had stopped using his power after sending Sanji flying to this island or if the entire lot of them had become his victims. But there was no way to know, no way to find out until they reunited on the _Sunny_ , so worrying about it would avail them nothing. They had to shove those thoughts to the back of their minds and forge forward with all determination to get back to Sabaody.

It wasn’t until the end of the meal, when both young men were sitting back to revel in how comfortably full they were and how sweet and sharp the sake tasted, that Sanji realized that they hadn’t once insulted each other the whole time. There was a little ribbing, maybe, some casual banter, but they weren’t fighting at all. That, more than anything, was what made sitting there in that house on that island so surreal. He squinted into his glass at the clear sake, wondering if he could blame it for being in such an easygoing mood around the swordsman. It just wasn’t natural, the two of them behaving so well. Even if he did respect Zoro and consider him a friend ( _gasp! shock!_ did he really just have that thought?), that didn’t stop them from bickering like children most days. He might have been horrified to know that Zoro noticed it as well, but he typically didn’t call attention to things like that. Zoro actually chalked it up to the circumstance – there wasn’t a reason to squabble with the cook at a time like this. Besides, they were both generally more amicable with each other at mealtimes, if only because that time was usually reserved for Luffy or Usopp to provide the stupid antics and the yelling. Either way, both fell silent around the same time and let it go, finishing up their drinks and abruptly switching into a businesslike routine. Sanji went to wrap up what was left of the food and save it for tomorrow, while Zoro collected the dishes and stacked them in the sink. Unfortunately, he didn’t stick around to help wash the dishes, snapping Sanji instantly back into normal mode with a snarl as he demanded not to be left alone with all the household chores while Zoro just wandered off to do whatever he pleased. Zoro wandered anyway, though he had a purpose for going outside. He needed to clear his head, to finish mulling over that realization that he and Sanji were getting along and then put it aside on his own. He also wanted to get his bearings and have a listen to the night noises of the island. There wasn’t a chance in hell that he could navigate, even if he did recognize any of the stars, but there were other things to be observed – things which mattered for their safety. Satisfied that nothing would bother their shelter, he checked on the drying wood, looked to see whether the tide was coming in, and then headed back inside. By that time, Sanji was finished with the dishes and already in the bathroom, taking care of his own needs before bed.

They converged on the bedroom at the same time, staring in unison at the bed. It actually wasn’t that small, two could have probably fit with a little work, but the mere suggestion of it was something neither man wanted to be the first to make. So instead, they stared in silence, gradually turning their gazes toward each other as if to dare each other to say what they were both thinking. In a last-ditch effort to save the trouble, Zoro went to the small standing wardrobe in the back corner and hunted around in it for anything resembling spare blankets. The pink island seemed to be a spring island, so there wasn’t anything in the way of preparation for colder nights. There were two pillows, at least. Zoro picked one up, turned it over in his hands, fluffed it, and did everything to keep from being the first to speak. Sanji watched him, certain that he would offer to sleep on the floor because really, he could sleep anywhere, including the hard wooden deck of the ship while it pitched in a storm. But he said nothing, almost forcing Sanji to be the one to open his mouth first. “Look. Either we draw straws, or...”

“Why don’t we both just share?” Zoro interrupted him with a shrug. “It’s big enough for two.”

Sanji just about leaped out of his skin in reaction. “What?! I’m not sharing a bed with another man! I mean I know you’re injured and all but let’s at least give it a fair chance. Flip a coin, anything! We’ll switch off the next night, then, so it’s only fair.”

“Don’t be such a wimp about it.” Zoro set the pillow back in place and went about removing his boots. “I’m not going to attack you in your sleep. You act like you’ve never had to share close quarters before.”

Sanji blinked at him, trying not to stammer up a response. “Well...not _this_ close. Not since I was little,” he pouted, watching with some concern as his companion sat down on the edge of the bed and carefully worked off his shirt so as not to dislodge his bandages. “Even on the ship there’s plenty of room to spread out and not…you know. Get too close.”

Zoro glanced back at him and snorted at his nervousness. “Relax. If you’re so worried about your precious reputation being tainted by possibly having another man’s shoulder touch yours in the middle of the night, then you can sleep on the floor. I’m too tired to deal with your bullshit.”

Visibly twitching with the argument that wanted to be unleashed, Sanji stood there quivering for a bit, but then backed down. Zoro had a way of stating what others didn’t want to, and wielded his own opinion like a club. In the end, Sanji’s objections were nothing but bullshit indeed, and even he had to admit it to himself. No one was around, anyway, no one would know that he was forced to share a bed with Zoro for the sake of comfort. By the time Zoro was turning down the blankets, wearing only his pants, Sanji decided with a huge sigh to give up and just go with it. He had changed into a t-shirt and loose pants that he found in the wardrobe early on in his sojourn, so he doused the light and slid cautiously into bed on the opposite side. Zoro stretched out with only the slightest groan for his aches, tucking an arm under his head, while Sanji made sure that there was a definite gap of at least two or three inches between any parts of their bodies. “So help me,” he muttered under his breath, “if you snore, I’m kicking you.”

Zoro deliberately rolled onto his side, taking an extra fraction of the topcovers with him. “As long as I stay on my side, I won’t snore.”

“I mean it,” Sanji warned one more time before the room fell silent. The one window faced west, so the room was pleasantly dark and quiet. The swordsman’s inner heat radiated off him, ensuring that the bed would stay warm and comfortable. Sanji had his back to him, still scowling to himself over the arrangement, because keeping that invisible barrier between them cost him enough of the bed that he lay perched somewhat on the edge. But very soon, the peaceful rhythm of Zoro’s breathing and the warmth he gave off lulled even the irritable cook into a relaxed state, and eventually slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART TWO: a couple of heavy arguments and a little strategy.

Despite the assumption that he really liked to sleep, Zoro was one of the earliest risers among the crew. He liked to be up in order to keep lookout, weigh anchor, or take care of any of his personal needs before breakfast, which meant most of the time he woke up before Sanji regardless. Today was no exception, mostly because he was hungry, a good sign that his healing was progressing nicely. The bed was warm and the room still dark, though birds could be heard chirping outside the windows along with the muffled crash of waves on the beach further below their place. Thus, it took Zoro a minute or two to feel like opening his eyes, let alone consider getting up. It was definitely morning, though – there was enough light filtering in to reveal that Sanji’s worst fears had completely come true in the middle of the night, and he was still too dead-asleep to appreciate it. Somehow, in his tossing and turning, Zoro had rolled completely over and wrapped an arm around the slender cook, which on the one hand had kept him from falling onto his back and snoring, but on the other…well. He almost yanked himself away in a panic, but doing so would have woken Sanji and then the whole thing would have just gotten worse. Awkward didn’t even begin to cover it. Instead, Zoro slowly extracted his arm and rolled onto his back, taking a moment to stare at the ceiling in disbelief.

It wasn’t the end of the world. In fact, it didn’t feel all that bad. The warmth had been nice. But…it was that stupid jerk of a cook! The one who was always snubbing him in order to show his obvious bias toward the women of the crew, the one who liked to toss an insult at him in the middle of conversation or provoke him in front of the others. They had been more friendly at one point, but as time went on and more women became part of their journey, Sanji had become gradually more insufferable. And yet..... The swordsman found himself idly mapping their course in terms of the way the two men related to each other. There were those insults, those squabbles, the yelling in each other’s faces and the attempts to outdo each other at menial tasks. Yet, there was a spot on the map that didn’t make sense. _Thriller Bark._ Zoro rubbed the sleep from his eyes as the thought danced through his head and then flitted away. He considered, and then let it go, deciding it wasn’t important right now. As long as Sanji was still asleep – which he was, partly on his side, most of his hair completely obscuring the left side of his face. Zoro determined it was best not to tell him and just got up, making his way slowly into the hall and the bathroom.

By the time Sanji got up and yawned his way into the kitchen to start breakfast, Zoro was dressed in the same shirt from the day before and sitting near the front windows of the little house, gazing out at the ocean. As usual, they didn’t greet each other aside from acknowledging grunts or nods and just got down to business. Sanji kept breakfast simple and quick, so they could sit down and plot out how they were going to go about escaping the island. For some reason, he was humming while he cooked, something that briefly caught Zoro’s attention, but he shrugged it off and settled in to discuss their options. Once they were finished with the food, Sanji moved aside the empty plates and used an upturned saucer to represent the island they were currently on. “Most of the houses are here, in a little conclave, though there’s a few scattered around,” he explained, setting leftover grapes to mark the positions of these locations. “The one I think is the leader, ‘Elizabeth,’ lives in a bigger house here. And like I said, there’s no ships, but the closest thing to a landing or quay is up here.”

Zoro squinted at the plate of grapes as though it were a hand-drawn pirate map. “Then, it would make sense if the supply ships landed at that quay…it’s a short trek from there to the village.”

“Especially with their stone-paved roads. Really,” the cook sighed, taking a long drag off his cigarette, “if not for the whole okama thing, this would be a little slice of Paradise.”

“I don’t know,” Zoro muttered dubiously, “it’s too damn pink for Paradise. So. You don’t want to talk to these...uh. ‘Women.’ How else would you propose finding out when the supply ships pass through?”

Sanji leveled him with an even stare, letting the wisp of smoke from his cigarette drift up toward the ceiling for a minute. “ _You_ could talk to them. I’m kind of curious what kind of dress they think would look good on you.”

Zoro bristled at him. “Don’t start with me, cook. You’re too chicken to talk to a cross-dresser, so you send me to do it instead?”

“I am not _chicken_ ,” Sanji shot back defensively. “You don’t know what they’re capable of. They honestly believe we’re here to join them and just haven’t gotten over our hesitations yet. Mark my words, if you let down your guard, you’ll be dolled up in something flower-print in no time.”

For a moment Zoro considered continuing to argue, but he twisted his lips in a pout and let it go. “Taking ‘talking to the locals’ off the table for now, then. What other options do we have?”

Sighting, Sanji rubbed the back of his neck idly. “Unfortunately, most of them have some element of time involved. Waiting to see for ourselves, staking out the tavern in the village to see if we can overhear anything…”

“And we already said we don’t want to wait,” Zoro pointed out. “The sooner we’re off this island, the better.” He mulled it over for a moment, making a disgruntled face. “How sure are you that Elizabeth is the island’s leader?”

“Eh...fifty-fifty,” Sanji shrugged. “Something about the way the others go along with her. Without her around, the rest get shy and keep their distance, but she tends to bring out the worst in them. Plus, she has a very fancy house. Fountains inside and everything.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.” Zoro sat for a moment rubbing his face, his eyes idly cast on the upside-down saucer that served as their map. “Could break in and see if there’s anything that points to her being the official leader – papers or something. Maybe even a den-den mushi.”

At that, Sanji perked up. “It wouldn’t matter where it called to, a den-den mushi is a line off this island.”

“And what if it called the Marines?” Zoro began to grin lazily. “Is that a risk you want to take?”

“I will jump into the arms of the damn Marines if it means getting off this shitty island,” Sanji groused. “It wouldn’t be so bad if I wasn’t living in constant fear that a pack of fake women is going to sneak up on me, kidnap me, and dress me up like one of them. Also, the rest of the crew needs us – we have to leave here as fast as we can.”

“You won’t get any argument from me.” Zoro sat back, plucking up the grape representing the village and popping it in his mouth. “Breaking into someone’s house is doing something, rather than sitting back on our heels waiting. If we can find a den-den mushi, we can call someone off-island to at least tell us where to get a ship.”

“Don’t eat the village!” It was too, late, though. Sanji shook his head and then stubbed out his cigarette on the edge of the plate, about where the beach where he washed up was located on the actual island. “As much as I hate to say it, we’d better stick together. Either one of us roaming alone is going to be a target for the locals.”

“They look like women,” Zoro noted, picking up the grape representing Elizabeth’s house and inspecting it. “Is that enough to prevent you from kicking them in the face if they try anything?”

“Don’t know. I haven’t tried it.” Sanji had said things before about how a person was their heart, not whatever face they wore, but that didn’t turn out so well for him at the time. He was concerned about this question as well, which was why most of his proposed solutions had to do with not confronting anyone. He stowed away the butt of his cigarette and got up to clear the table. “Give me a few minutes and we’ll map out our first sortie.”

“Hopefully the last one, too.” Zoro reclined his chair back on two legs and grabbed the last grape, tossing it in the air and catching it in his mouth. Sanji gave an exaggerated snort to show his lack of impression at the move and got down to cleaning. He was completely oblivious to the way his companion’s eyes followed him around the room, too busy mentally berating him for not helping and organizing his chores for later when they were done hunting for a way off the island. By the time he was done and wiping his hands clean on a towel, Zoro was looking elsewhere, feigning disinterest, and Sanji was none the wiser.

The crash of waves on the beach faded away as they made their way inland, toward the glade of pink grass and heart-petaled flowers where their first objective lay. Both men wore borrowed clothing from the closet in their temporary house, though nothing particularly camouflaging. They walked at a normal pace and barely talked, preferring silence and not attracting attention. Sanji’s head was constantly turning this way and that, keeping an eye out for the locals. He was the only one who knew the way, so Zoro was stuck following his lead, which included stopping now and then when there was any unnatural noise or indication that someone might have noticed them. Fortunately, no one did. When they had nearly reached the lone house in the meadow, Zoro spoke up in his usual quiet, unassuming tone. “When we’re done with this, we should head for that quay,” he suggested. “I want to see where it is.”

“You wouldn’t remember the way there even if I did show you,” Sanji retorted.

“That doesn’t matter!” Zoro snapped, temporarily raising his voice before reining it back in. “It’s important to know. It’s part of the strategy!”

“One thing at a time!” Sanji snapped back before shushing them both and slinking behind a tree. A second later he grabbed Zoro’s shirt and yanked him over to join him, just in time: the door to the garish purple house opened and someone came out.

It was difficult at this distance to hear anything being said, but three people definitely left the house together in a small knot, and Sanji tensed as he recognized the blond figure known as Elizabeth. The three were talking with their heads together, and now and then a laugh drifted back to the two pirates on the wind, but they clearly had somewhere to be and were gone down the path in minutes. Zoro nearly started out for the house, but Sanji’s hand tightened on his arm, silently asking him to wait. Once it was clear Elizabeth had actually left with her friends and wasn’t coming back right away, he relented. “Damn, you’re jumpy,” Zoro muttered at him, remembering to keep his voice low this time. “Those okama really put the fear of something into you.”

“Shut up,” Sanji grumbled, his face flushing a little at the memory. Fleeing from anything was so disgraceful, even if he had no choice. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his trousers and slunk off through the pink shrubbery towards the house, circling it cautiously and heading for the back. He didn’t know if there was a back door, but he could look for one. Zoro followed, keeping one hand on the swords at his side to keep them from making noise. There was, in fact, a rear entrance to the purple house, but it was locked. Fortunately, Elizabeth seemed to take security a little less than seriously – one of the nearby windows was left open. Several minutes and quite a bit of undignified flailing later, Sanji had wriggled his way inside and unlocked the door for his companion to follow.

Without knowing why the occupant had gone out or how long she would stay there, they knew they had to make this quick. They split up and covered the house without a word to each other, hunting frantically for a den-den mushi or anything else pertaining to their need to escape the island and doing their best not to leave any sign that anyone had been ransacking the house. The last thing they needed was to put the residents on the alert, in case they needed to sneak in again. Sanji’s first instinct was to search the desk at which he had seen Elizabeth seated, the one other time he had been in the house, but he came up empty. Zoro was the one who found it, eventually, upstairs in another study. Sanji was starting to fret a little, knowing they were wasting time, but there was a window through which they could see a stretch of the path leading toward the center of the island and the cluster of homes that passed for a village. They wouldn’t get much warning, but a little was better than none at all. Meanwhile, Zoro peered at the device, determining that it was the kind that could call to multiple others depending on the number chosen. “There’s no Marine insignia, so we’re safe there,” he mused. “But now what? We don’t know the call sign of the supply ship or anything.”

Sanji tugged back a lacy curtain to check the flagstone paths below. “It’s got to be around here somewhere,” he growled. “Even if it’s the only number they ever call off the island, it has to be written down on something. We need to hurry up and find it!”

Zoro shuffled through papers stored in and on the desk where the den-den mushi sat, while Sanji hunted through the shelves of books all over the study. Every now and then one or the other would peep out the curtains to make sure the coast was still clear. It really was an absurd scene, if either of them were to stop and think about it. Every time the swordsman let a paper drop or threatened to break something with his clumsy pawing, Sanji snarled at him, demanding that they not leave any incriminating evidence at all. Yet, even he was about to give up and just pull down every book off the shelves when Zoro checked the lookout once more and grunted in warning. “Shit. They’re coming.”

“Shit!” Sanji rushed to verify his report, and then smacked him in the arm. “Let’s go! Forget about it, we’ll come back for it later!” He bolted out of the study and flew down the stairs, not even waiting for his comrade and only checking to make sure he wasn’t lagging behind when he reached the back door. Zoro was right behind him, though, and beat him out the door itself. They let the latch click to and darted off into the trees just as Elizabeth opened the front door, having no idea that her house had just been broken into by pirates.

The pair ran for it and didn’t stop until they were some distance away, having startled a flock of flamingos in drag as they passed a pond and nearly tumbled into the water. By the time they stopped in a clearing where more of the neatly-paved paths converged, their clothing was covered in pink-hued pollen from all the trees and flowers, and they were considerably out of breath. “I don’t think we were followed,” Zoro panted, doubled over with his hands on his knees.

“That was too close,” Sanji breathed, leaning against a tree. “At least...we know where it is, now.”

“What are we gonna do,” Zoro wondered between gasps, “keep sneaking into her house until we can find the number? Day in, day out?”

“I don’t know.” Sanji paused for a few moments until he had caught his breath, and then tilted his head toward his comrade. “We might not be so lucky next time. I’m not going to worry about it right now. Let’s go check out that quay, and work on a new plan later. Back at the house.”

Zoro grunted his agreement with the idea and started off, but Sanji reached out a gangly arm and hooked his shirt, dragging him back. He thumbed over his shoulder to indicate that they needed to go the other way, and then started away himself in the lead.

There really wasn’t much to be seen at the beach, for there was no pier and no spare craft to be seen anywhere, but there were definite signs that this was the landing for supply ships. The path that led to it was wider, and a broken cart-wheel sat half-buried in the sand at its end. The quay itself was a mix of sand and rocky shingle, with waves lapping gently at it. Two spars of land thrust out to cradle the bay and shelter it from rough seas outside, precisely what landing boats would need to safely haul in cargo to be unloaded. Sanji guided the way back to their safehouse from there, this time actually taking a mental estimate of the distance. It wasn’t too far if one cut straight across the island, rather than skirting it along the shore. Upon returning, they set about a few vital chores and then sat down with drinks, preferring the bland quiet of the little house to the blinding pink of the outdoors. It was time for some serious thinking, and possibly some unpleasant decisions. As if to help delay it a little longer, Zoro asked for assistance checking and fixing his bandages, as some of them were starting to slip thanks to the sweat of exertion. He sat on a stool with his head drooping, a glass held loosely in one hand, while Sanji patiently wrapped him back up without question. “I’m not Chopper, you know,” he murmured as he neared the end of this task. “I can tell a healing wound from a fresh one, but I don’t know when’s a good time to stop bandaging them.”

“As long as nothing’s infected,” Zoro said gruffly. “You can at least tell that much, can’t you?”

“Nothing’s infected,” Sanji sighed. “You’re a damn mess, but it could be a lot worse.” Knotting off the last one, he went to pick up his own glass and have a refreshing sip. “You can probably take off some of them tonight or tomorrow. Though, knowing you, I don’t know why you haven’t ripped them all off already.” His curled eyebrow arched suspiciously.

Zoro lifted his glass to his lips, drinking down half of the cold juice at once. “Just making sure,” he said after a bit.

“Making sure of what?” Sanji wondered, perplexed. But he waved his hand as if to dismiss his own question right away. “Honestly, it’s a wonder you don’t have more scars than you do. At the rate you get diced up, Chopper must be working miracles.”

Zoro raised his eyebrow right back, privately wondering how and why the cook would have noticed his actual rate of scarring. “Guess I’m just lucky,” he snorted, tipping up the glass for another sip. “Anyway, didn’t we have something important to discuss?”

“Right.” Sanji leaned against the kitchen counter, idly swirling his glass around. “So we were partly successful. We found the den-den mushi. But we still have to figure out how to get a hold of someone who can give us passage. Short of picking numbers at random or just saying to hello to whoever picks up on the other end.”

“That’s if we can break back in,” Zoro said warily. “That means waiting for her, him, whatever, to go out again, and stay out long enough. It means a lot more waiting. We need something far more foolproof if we’re gonna get off this island in under a week.”

As much as he hated to admit it, Zoro was right. Sanji scowled to himself. “I never said we had to just sit around and wait for Elizabeth to leave us a chance. There’s got to be another way.” Out of pure frustration, he took out a cigarette and lit it, inhaling deeply until he felt a bit more clear-headed.

“Why not just ask for it?” Zoro wondered.

Sanji nearly bit the cigarette in half. “W-what?” he spluttered. “Just waltz in and ask to use the den-den mushi?”

“Yeah.”

“No!”

“Why not?”

“ _You_ do it, then!” Sanji snarled. “I’m not going anywhere near that crazy freak!”

Some part of Zoro was enjoying needling Sanji way too much. “Why should I do it? I’m the newcomer here. You’ve been here longer, you’ve met the locals.”

“That’s exactly why I shouldn’t do it!” The cook was having a hard time restraining himself from kicking Zoro in the mouth. As it was, he stood facing him, quivering with pent-up rage. “If they had caught me, they would have forcefully crammed me into a dress, just like them!

Zoro raised an eyebrow at his vehemence. “You know that for sure, or are you just being melodramatic?”

“I am not _melodramatic!_ ” Sanji blazed. “I know it because that was what they were shouting at me the entire time they were chasing me!”

Shrugging, Zoro accepted the explanation and went on, his demeanor as placid as Sanji’s was irate. “Do you need me to go with you and hold your hand?”

For a half a second, Sanji recoiled, the faintest blush dashing across his cheeks, but it was gone in a flash and replaced by rage. His foot came up fast, aimed for Zoro’s head, but the swordsman was used to this and raised his arm to block. The kick hit his forearm hard, but they held there for a second before the counter came. Zoro flicked his wrist around and grabbed Sanji’s outstretched leg, giving it a yank. Already off balance, Sanji flailed his arms to keep from crashing to the floor, righting himself just enough to be able to fling his hands back and handspring out of it. Fortunately, Zoro let him go, smirking lazily at how easy it was to provoke the cook. Once upright again, Sanji brushed off and straightened his shirt, glaring daggers at the other man. “This is not the time to be an asshole, _marimo_ -head,” he snapped.

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who tried to kick an injured man,” Zoro said indifferently.

“You can take it,” Sanji deadpanned. “Or have you become a fragile flower since getting punted off Sabaody?”

The insult didn’t exactly sting, but Zoro was annoyed enough to retaliate. He leaped off the stool and crossed to Sanji in one swift, fluid movement, grabbing a fistful of shirt and shoving him up against the nearest wall. It wasn’t enough to damage him, only rough enough to really annoy him right back. “Fragile or not,” he breathed into the cook’s face, “I can still kick your ass anytime I want.”

Sanji met his gaze with a glare of his own. “I’d like to see you try,” he snorted, gripping the hand that was clenched on the front of his shirt.

Zoro’s other hand thudded into the wall next to Sanji’s head, not startling him at all but giving him the sense that he was being cornered there. Undaunted, the cook blew a lungful of cigarette smoke into his comrade’s face. Zoro wrinkled his nose in disgust. “What the hell is your problem?” he complained.

“What do you mean, what’s my problem?” Sanji shot back. “You’re the one taunting me about facing those okama again.”

“I don’t just mean right now.” Zoro kept his hand resting firmly against the wall, making sure he had Sanji trapped even though his grip on the shirt was looser than before. It allowed him to stare straight into the cook’s visible eye, a generic sort of frown on his face. “For a while now you’ve been an insufferable jerk towards me. Ever since we entered the Grand Line. What the hell’s the matter?”

“Aw, is little Zoro’s self-esteem crushed?” Sanji cooed mockingly, before snapping right back into his acerbic mood. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I don’t treat you any different than the others.”

“You’re always in my face for no reason.”

“ _You_ always start it! I don’t do anything you haven’t provoked.”

“Liar.” Zoro let go of his shirt with a light shove, nothing more than a push of his knuckles against Sanji’s chest, and then planted that hand on the other side of the cook’s head. “Sometimes, you start shit with me for no reason. I’m sick of it.”

Sanji’s eye twitched irritably – he didn’t like the way Zoro had him against the wall, even if he wasn’t physically pinned. “Are you seriously telling me you want me to treat you better?”

Zoro held his gaze for a moment and then backed off, sliding away from the wall and turning around. He had said what he wanted to say, that was all. “Do whatever the hell you want,” he said in a low, heavy tone.

Sanji remained leaning against the wall, blinking a bit in confusion. This was not at all what he expected from the tough swordsman. He wasn’t remotely shamed that maybe he might be the provoker now and then, but he had started to think. At the very least, they needed to bury whatever conflict existed between them in order to survive this island and the journey back to their crew. They needed to trust each other. As that thought flashed across his mind, Sanji realized that he didn’t actually distrust Zoro, at all. They were friends, as he had mused the night before. “Oi,” he began in a similar low tone. “It’s not like that, you know.”

Zoro glanced over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. “Then what is it like? You’re impossible, you know. One minute you’re pushing my buttons, the next you’re fighting alongside me.”

“I might say the same of you.” Sanji straightened up, tucking one hand in a pocket and taking his cigarette in the other. “Don’t make this all out to be my fault, you’re just as bad.”

“Is it the girls?” Zoro peered suspiciously at him. “You think I’m some kind of rival for their affections?”

Sanji spluttered a bit, vainly searching for the words to deny what was probably somehow, deep down, true. “They wouldn’t want you anyway!” he finally said. “You wouldn’t know how to treat them right.”

Turning towards him, Zoro snorted, shaking his head. “There’s a huge problem with your theory: I’m not interested in them.”

Sanji boggled at him. “What do you mean you’re not interested? They’re beautiful ladies! The only way anyone could be not-interested in them is if they’re...” He cut himself off before saying the word, though his eye widened as he began to suspect it of his crewmate.

Zoro put on his most droll look. “I’m not interested because I’m not interested, not because I don’t like women,” he said dryly. “I didn’t trust Robin for the longest time, and Nami is…not my type.” He refrained from calling her a greedy bitch in front of Sanji, that would just provoke a real fight. “Besides,” he grumbled under his breath, “she says I still owe her money.”

“Well, that’s your own damn fault.” Though still suspicious, Sanji began to relent somewhere in his thoughts. He stared at Zoro for a long moment, taking a drag off his cigarette. “If that’s your story,” he said warily, “then why do you bug the crap out of _me_?”

The question apparently vexed Zoro, because he gritted his teeth in that way that indicated he was trying really hard to think of the right answer. After a moment’s hemming and hawing, he grumbled, “You can be really damn annoying, you know. Making a fool of yourself around the girls, giving them special desserts and preference at dinner...”

The curly eyebrow arched up again. “Oh? You know, if I didn’t know any better, I would swear those were the words of a jealous man.”

Zoro jerked back, making a gaping face rather like a freshly-caught fish. “I’m not jealous!” he bellowed. “That’s not what I meant! You’re just annoying when you act like that!”

“And you’re annoying when you give me shit about it!” Sanji lunged, getting right in the other man’s face. “Seriously, that’s it? That’s your problem with me?”

Zoro met him nose-to-nose. “Like it’s any worse than _your_ problem?”

“There is no problem! You’re imagining things!”

“So are you if you think I’m jealous!”

Sanji pulled back, clenching his teeth on his cigarette. “What the hell does this have to do with anything, anyway? We were supposed to be talking about how to get off this damn island!”

Zoro straightened up as well, backing off with a snort. “It just needed to be said,” he huffed. “Since you don’t like my idea, which I think is a perfectly good one.”

“I am not walking up to that house and asking to use the den-den mushi to call for help,” Sanji said firmly. “If for no other reason than, I don’t think they’ll let us. They think everyone here came here deliberately, they can’t even fathom that we’d want to leave. They’re not going to help us leave.”

“If you won’t do it, then I will,” Zoro declared, folding his arms over his brawny chest.

Some part of Sanji wondered why he didn’t just say that in the first place. “Fine. Go ahead. You’ll find out that I’m right. They’re going to keep us here until they can force us to be one of them, not roll out the red carpet to the quay so we can flee.” For a moment he stood peering at Zoro, but then his mind started to work, envisioning scenarios. He rubbed thoughtfully at his scruffy chin. “If you’re serious about doing this, you need to have a better plan. You need to think of how you’re going to actually approach them and talk to them, or else you’ll come away from there in a tutu.”

Zoro tilted his head curiously. “I was just gonna knock and the door and say, hey, can I use your den-den...”

“Too easy to say no to,” Sanji interrupted with a wave of his hand. “You need to have a reason to make a call. Something that they can’t turn down.”

“What if I said you fell off a cliff and needed a doctor?” Zoro offered, his eyes narrowing in a taunt.

“Don’t even think about it,” Sanji warned with a similar look back. “They might have a doctor here, and I don’t want any of them coming around trying to _examine_ me.” He shuddered so violently he almost dropped his cigarette.

“Well, what else is so urgent and important that only a really heartless bastard would say no to it?” The swordsman also was doing his best to think, and sincerely. “Medical emergencies...tragedy...uh...” He scratched the back of his head. “…food?”

Sanji looked at him. “Food?”

“Yeah, you know, like…we’re out of food, we need to know where to get more.”

The cook stared at him, a little impressed that he’d thought of it first. “Huh. You might be onto something there.” He began to pace along the edge of the kitchen. “They probably don’t know that I nicked any of their stuff. But if we come to them begging for assistance, they may just offer us handouts from what they have.”

“What if I asked for something they don’t have?”

Sanji spun around in place, pointing at him. “That’s it! I know what you should do. Tell them your crewmate is a chef, and would like to thank the ladies of the island for their welcome with a big feast. But you’ll need to call to a supply ship to get enough to feed everyone. And emphasize things they wouldn’t have here, that we need to ship in – fine wines, chocolate, unique fruits and fish...”

Zoro fixed him with another droll look. “You’re going to have to make a list for me.”

Sanji waved him off as he crossed suddenly into the kitchen. “I will, when it’s time. We’ll do this tomorrow. I’m not going to go in with you on account of those people creep me out, but I’ll follow nearby in case you need backup.” He turned his head, shooting Zoro a warning look over his shoulder. “...in case they swarm on you and attack you.”

“I still think you’re nuts,” Zoro sighed, “but whatever. This is the best plan we have right now.” He went back to where he had left his glass and finished his drink. “Tomorrow’s good enough. It’s getting late today, anyway.”

Sanji seemed to have already realized the same thing, because he was already head-and-shoulders into the icebox picking ingredients for dinner. “Tomorrow,” he agreed. “We’ll make up a list after breakfast and plan the safest route.”

Zoro watched him getting down to work for a minute, and then turned away. He figured it was a good time to check the stash of firewood and maybe feed the furnace, so they could have hot water for baths tonight as well. The battered remnants of his boat were mostly dry, save for the deepest part of the keel, and all it took to fit the chunks of wood in the furnace was stomping on them with his feet. While he worked, his mind was replaying the argument in the kitchen, wondering if he had opened up too much by instigating the fight. Did it really matter why Sanji liked to bait him, or vice versa? He really did find the cook’s antics around the women annoying, but he wasn’t sure why. Particularly since they fought well together when the situation demanded. He thought back to Arlong Park, Sanji’s first battle as part of the crew, and how the two of them hadn’t hesitated at all. They were much friendlier with each other then, it hadn’t changed until the Grand Line...until Nami and Vivi, and then Nami and Robin...

Zoro paused before kicking through another slat. Was it true? Was he jealous of the girls getting all of Sanji’s attention?

It couldn’t be, he assured himself, going back to work. It was only because the love-cook’s antics got even sillier after that point. They still managed to back each other up just fine when it mattered, like the Davy Back fight, and Enies Lobby, and _Thriller Bark_...

He paused again, straightening up. That name had crossed his mind again, that ship of nightmares where strange things happened, like what happened those few moments before the warlord Kuma took him up on his offer. None of the rest of the crew had been conscious, Zoro was sure none of them knew about Sanji’s bold attempt at saving them…saving him, from having to bear that fate. Or that he had to resort to an unfortunate kidney punch to keep Sanji from dying. _He would have died,_ he told himself. _He’s strong, but he wouldn’t have survived that ordeal._ If they honestly had so many problems with each other, why did he care? Why did he refuse to let Sanji die? If someone had asked him outright, he could have passed it off as pride – he had made the offer first, after all, it was his right to follow through with it and not have another crew member steal that from him. But they both had that right to pride. The cook had as much right to sacrifice himself as any member of the crew who could have stood up at that moment, dusted themselves off, and bravely faced Kuma.

Zoro closed his eyes, finding the memory far too fresh – it had only been a few weeks, after all. He could vividly see the blond man getting in between him and the warlord, his whole body trembling with the effort of putting one foot in front of the other. He could hear his rasping breath, the rattle of broken ribs and the crunch of those thick-soled shoes on the rubble. Both of them had taken a severe beating, there was no reason to think Zoro was somehow less injured, more able to face the trial of pain. It was only his own stubbornness, foolish or otherwise, that drove him to go through with it and cling to life afterward. As he opened his eyes and looked down at the scraps of wood, he came to realize that he hadn’t knocked Sanji out to save his own pride. It was to save _him_.

At the same time, Sanji was lost in thought himself, able to slice, chop, mix, and stir almost by rote so that his mind could wander. He was preparing the bit of pork he had stolen, eager for something besides fish for a change and finally possessing all the ingredients for a quality dish. The argument weighed on his mind as well, since he had silently advocated cooperation between them and then went and jeopardized it by getting in a fight. Maybe some part of him did generally view Zoro as a rival of sorts, even if he had never made anything resembling a flirtatious move on anyone. It was logical, really – Luffy was clueless about the nature of the sexes, Usopp was ugly, Franky was a cyborg, Chopper a reindeer, and Brooke a skeleton. That only left him and Zoro as potential mates for the two women in the crew. Of course, his logic stopped there instead of suggesting that maybe if he focused on Nami, he could let Zoro have Robin – it didn’t work that way. But now the swordsman had told him, point blank, that he wasn’t interested. Sanji wasn’t sure whether to believe him, that it didn’t mean he was interested in men instead. In all their time together, he had never seen Zoro express anything remotely romantic toward anybody, the man honestly seemed disinterested, focused solely on his strength and his swords. Sanji was content to leave him with those, so why did he enjoy needling him?

He placed a cover on the pot of rice, turning down the flame so it could heat and steam to perfection. He was not a man prone to honesty with himself, he could deny and sidestep things quite easily. Some of those kinds of thoughts were coming dangerously close to breaking through, however, and the longer the little house remained silent but for the sounds of rice bubbling and meat sizzling, the more Sanji thought and the closer he got to actually confronting himself. It wasn’t as though he was ever truly mean to Zoro, or any of the others – his insults could be terms of endearment, in a way. If he taunted the guy, it was over something that really, anyone could find hilarious, like his tendency to get lost easily or his sleeping on deck in the middle of the action. When it came time to fight, they put all of that aside. They were crewmates, after all, they couldn’t just leave each other to die.

That word. _Die_. It brought him to _Thriller Bark_ as well, to the moment he had struggled to his feet when he heard Zoro offer his own head to Bartholomew Kuma. He denied to himself that he had good reason to try and save the swordsman, and told himself it was for the sake of the whole crew, particularly the girls. But the girls weren’t in danger. Kuma didn’t want any of them except Luffy, though in lieu of the captain he would take the second. At that instant, when the deal was brokered, the only one in danger of death was Zoro, and Sanji stood up to prevent it. Not by fighting back, but by making the same sacrifice in his place. It really made no sense, even to him. To find the real reason, he would have to dig deeper into his psyche to a place he didn’t want to go right now.

He couldn’t deny the feeling he had when he saw Zoro again later, upon waking up. Being the one to find him, bloodied from head to foot and so close to death that his body was paralyzed in place, had instilled something in Sanji that he was afraid to name. It was painful to witness, painful to remember even now, but somehow it was also extremely important that he not forget it. He stood in the kitchen with the remnants of his cigarette slowly burning to ash, absently watching the food cook while his mind traveled down this path. He had carried Zoro back to the others on his back, staining his suit with both their blood. He had gotten the injured man to Chopper in time and saved his life, at the cost of remembering the horror every time he closed his eyes for days afterward: the weak, pained groans in his ear as he tried unfolding stiffened arms and draping them over his shoulders, the hitch in his rattling breath whenever Sanji’s own weakness caused his footing to miss and he jostled his passenger. Chopper had raged at him for moving Zoro, but Sanji was sure it was the right thing to do. Otherwise, he would have died in the middle of that clearing, before help could reach him. In the end, he had saved Zoro after all, and couldn’t brush it off as being pride or selfishness or ego. He just did it, and he would never forget it.

Sanji stubbed out the butt of his cigarette and took care of it. About that moment, the door creaked open and Zoro came in, brushing off his hands on his pants. “There,” he announced. “There should be enough heat for cooking _and_ bath water, now.”

“Oh, is that what you were up to?” Sanji guessed it already, since his stove was staying nice and constant and he could hear the breaking of boards from outside. He wiped his hand on the towel over his shoulder and then brushed some hair away from his right eye. “Dinner will be ready shortly, so don’t go too far.”

Zoro grunted his acknowledgement and went back toward the washroom, to actually wash his hands. He made a cursory check of his bandages, and eventually wandered back out to the main room of the little house. By that time Sanji was already in the process of putting everything out on the table as though he were still serving the entire crew, even if it was just dinner for the two of them. At least it allowed him to sit down and eat at the same time, instead of snatching a meal on his feet after everyone else had their fill. They ate mostly in silence, though not because they were upset with each other still. They weren’t; it was just their manner. There wasn’t anything to be said, aside from Zoro’s off-handed muttering about how the breaded pork over rice was good, and agreement that each of them wanted their turn in the bath before bed. “You can go first,” the swordsman offered with his nose still in the bowl of rice. “That way you can play nurse for me after I’m done.”

Sanji snorted into his glass. “Payback for the favor of letting me go first,” he said dryly. “Thanks a lot.”

Zoro shot him a look that was mostly sly smile before digging back into his dinner, eating ravenously. Even at that pace, they finished about the same time, at which point Sanji sat back in his chair to enjoy an after-dinner smoke. Zoro got up and began clearing dishes without being asked, a move that made the cook raise his eyebrow curiously. He sat for a bit, and then got up to follow, packing up the leftover rice for later. Before he could get anywhere near washing dishes, though, Zoro blocked him, making a face. “I’m taking a bath when this is all done,” he warned, “whether you’re out of there or not.”

“Fine, fine, I’m going. Geez.” Sanji tossed down his towel and headed for the bathroom, swinging by the bedroom on the way for a change of clothes. The tub matched the rest of this house – small, barely enough for one person to enjoy – but he made the most of it, lounging for a while with his feet propped up on the far end, absently staring at a spot on the wall. He did his best not to think about Zoro this time, instead planning how to phrase their spiel for tomorrow to hopefully snow the head okama just enough. It had to go right, or else they really could be stuck there. He managed to get out before Zoro even thought of barging in, and went to double-check the kitchen to make sure it was still standing while the other bathed. To his surprise, the dishes were done and everything was, more or less, as it should be. By this time night had fallen outside, so Sanji stepped out to listen to the waves lapping at the shore and get a breath of fresh air – which, in his book, included finishing the cigarette he had started after dinner. He ducked back in when he heard movement, figuring Zoro would be looking for bandage assistance as he threatened.

It wouldn’t have been a two-man job if the green-haired swordsman wasn’t covered head-to-toe, back-to-front, in bruises and lacerations. His extensive injuries from _Thriller Bark_ hadn’t fully healed before they were attacked, even if the surface evidence of them had gone away, and now he had fresh ones on top of that. It had been almost a week since the actual fight, though, so Sanji’s earlier assessment was more or less on the mark. The bandages would keep salt and sweat out of the lingering wounds, and bind the internal injuries so they could heal properly. Some looked healed enough to leave to the open air, so Sanji changed the pattern of the wrap, leaving gaps in the bandages over parts of Zoro’s chest and back. As he knotted the last one around Zoro’s arm, the man’s other hand suddenly slid over his. Sanji froze in place, not sure how to react to the touch. It withdrew just as quickly, as Zoro murmured, “Thanks.”

Sanji looked at him, stunned. But Zoro acted as though nothing was amiss, sliding off the stool and picking up a shirt to throw on for the time being. “O-oi,” the cook stammered, torn between needing to ask and not wanting to know the answer, “what the hell was that...?”

Zoro stiffly wrestled the shirt down over his bandages, his back to Sanji. “What was what?”

Pretending it didn’t happen didn’t fly with Sanji. He angrily set his hands on his hips. “You know what.”

Breathing a soft sigh, Zoro did not turn around. He spoke with his head down, as if deliberately trying to keep the other from hearing. “Forget it. My mistake.”

“What’s with you?” Sanji fixed his back with a perplexed glare. “You’re acting weird.”

“I said forget it!” Zoro finally faced him, glaring right back. “It doesn’t matter. You’re a ladies’ man anyway.”

“Wait a minute.” As realization dawned over Sanji, he took a step back, recoiling. “I was _right_. You prefer m...”

Zoro abruptly rushed him, just like earlier that day, shoving him back and pinning him to the wall with one strong hand firmly gripping his shoulder. His tanned face was livid. “Shut up,” he demanded in a low, dangerous tone. “You don’t understand anything, don’t open your mouth when you don’t know a thing.”

Sanji bristled and reacted out of instinct, having enough of a gap between them to raise a foot and attempt to kick him off. Zoro evaded his lashing-out and hooked his arm under Sanji’s knee, pressing forward against him. It bent that knee back to Sanji’s chest, but the cook was lithe and flexible enough to withstand it. Yet, this put him into a position he didn’t like, as evidenced by the rising flush in his face that crept all the way to his ears. His face twisted in fury, his teeth gritted and a vein in his forehead pulsing. “Get _off_ me,” he breathed, low and threatening.

Zoro stared him down, eyeball to eyeball. “Relax,” he muttered, easing his death-grip on Sanji’s shoulder. “I’m not going to do anything to you, so just get that stupid idea out of your damn head for five seconds.”

Beneath his clutches, Sanji was actually starting to shake a little. A few beads of sweat stood out on his neck. “Easy for you to say,” he snarled back, “when you’ve got my leg like that.”

“I just don’t want you to _kick_ me,” Zoro insisted.

A hand came up and pressed flat against the side of his face, slender fingers curling around his brow and cheek. “How about I _punch_ you instead?” Sanji threatened.

“Dammit, will you relax and let me explain?” There was desperation in Zoro’s voice, enough that his comrade wavered for a moment. He still glared daggers into the face just a few inches from his, but in the end, Sanji gave in, pulling his hand away. As a show of good faith, Zoro released his leg, letting him put it back down on the floor. That didn’t stop Sanji from suddenly jabbing out with the heels of his palms, shoving Zoro away from him with a quick snap. It bought him a few feet of breathing space, though Zoro did not retreat any further than that. His hands hung at his sides, now, his posture still radiating superiority even though his head lowered a bit. “It’s like this,” he said heavily, his voice a rasping murmur. “I’m not like you. I don’t care about romance and love. Sex is meaningless to me. I’ve had women, but I’ve had a few men along the way as well.”

Sanji’s cheeks and neck were still red, only now from embarrassment and not anger. He reached across to his left shoulder, able to still feel the impression of Zoro’s fingers digging into his flesh. “And you can just say that so casually,” he noted warily.

“Yeah, I can,” Zoro responded as if to challenge him to call him a liar. “It’s not that unusual among pirates, you know.”

“Or okama.”

The fist came up so fast Sanji completely failed to dodge it. Zoro slugged him across the jaw, sending him sprawling. “Keep your damn mouth shut,” he said in that same heavy tone. “I should’ve known you’d act like this.”

Sanji coughed and touched his lips, checking for blood. It was a solid hit, but he knew the swordsman could do far worse damage if he wanted. Panting, he picked himself up off the floor and brushed himself off. “What did you want me to say?” he grumbled, glaring from under his disheveled bangs. “You just decided to confess to me that you have sex with men, what did you _think_ I’d think?”

“I don’t know!” Zoro turned away sharply, clawing his hands through his short hair in frustration. “It was stupid. I knew you’d be a jerk about it, I don’t know why I said anything.”

Rubbing his sore jaw, Sanji heaved a sigh. “I don’t want to know about your sex life,” he said bluntly. “I don’t care. I just want to know what the hell you thought you were doing, touching me like that.”

“Can’t a man appreciate a friend?” Zoro glanced over his shoulder, his dark eyes hard. “Yeah, that’s right, I said it. You’re my _friend_. Pretend all you want that I’m your rival, or whatever, but it’s true. Deal with it.”

Sanji started at that. Apparently, it wasn’t enough that such a sentiment should remain unspoken between them, and yet understood. He made a face, then. “You’re not the kind of guy who gets all touchy-feely with his friends,” he said suspiciously. “Something else is up.”

Zoro’s response was to turn and leave, heading down the hall toward the bedroom as if to escape. Sanji started after him, declaring, “oh no you don’t, come back here. You’re not getting off so easy…” Just as he was about to catch up in the dim dark of the short, narrow hallway, Zoro turned back and caught him instead, pressing a hand to his face and crushing their lips together. The kiss was short-lived, as Sanji shoved him back again. “Are you out of your mind?” he cried.

Zoro’s head drooped, avoiding his accusing gaze. “Maybe,” he replied.

By now Sanji was getting concerned that there might legitimately be something wrong with Zoro, even something so simple as a guilt complex brought on by their recent battles. Instead of lashing out, he pushed the swordsman away, keeping him at arm’s length. “Look, I can find the humor in this,” he said, eyeing him warily. “I should be flattered that I’m so handsome even men fall for me. But it’s not...I don’t...” He sighed in frustration and shook his head. “You know I’m in love with Nami!”

“Yeah, I know.” Zoro threaded his fingers through his green hair again, feeling unprepared for any of this. “No matter how many times she brushes you off, you just don’t give up. It’s pathetic, really.”

Sanji bristled yet again. “What?”

“The way she strings you along, and you fall for it.” Zoro shook his head slowly. “Whatever, it’s not up to me to tell you how to run your life. If that’s your dream, to fawn after Nami day after day with nothing to show for it, fine.” His eyes narrowed into a suspicious look. “All that frustration’s gotta be building up. We haven’t been to a decent port in weeks.”

Sanji’s curled eyebrow arched into all new and exciting curves. “Are you seriously suggesting I turn to you instead?”

To his credit, Zoro’s bravery was leading the way, making it impossible to remember why he kept this side of himself a secret from the annoying pervert cook. “I’m not suggesting anything,” he shrugged. “It really says something, though, when I’m open-minded enough to consider it and you’re not.”

“I’m not _into_ men,” Sanji insisted angrily. “So what if _you_ are? You said it yourself – you’re not me, and I’m not you.”

Zoro abruptly broke into a lazy grin. “I’m just into sex. I don’t care who with.”

The idea that the _marimo_ -head was somehow more sexual than him was enough to raise Sanji’s hackles, so to speak. He had plenty of conquests of his own, thanks to relentless charming of the many women who had passed through the doors of the Baratie, so it couldn’t be possible that he was second in this contest. “And you’re proud of that? Emotionless rutting, like an animal?” He tossed his head arrogantly. “At least I can say I cherished every single woman I’ve ever been with. You don’t know what you’re missing, with this lack of feeling you’d rather have.”

The grin faded, leaving Zoro looking serious as he regarded his companion. “I didn’t say I didn’t feel anything,” he noted. “Just not love or romance.” He edged closer, his eyes narrowing into a smirk as Sanji backed away from him until he hit another wall. But he didn’t trap the cook there, this time, he stopped far enough away to leave an escape route if the other was going to be a chicken about the closeness. The only light that reached them from the kitchen area sent strange shadows playing across their faces as they stared each other down. “Respect is still a feeling, isn’t it?” Zoro finally said.

Sanji gave a small start. “Respect...?” he repeated.

“Yeah.” Zoro took one step closer, tilting his head as if to peer down his comrade’s open collar. Sanji’s breath hitched in his throat – he noticed. “I don’t just pick men up off the street. It has to be someone I respect.” The smirk curved into his mouth again; it had been a while, honestly, since he met anyone who commanded that respect. But he didn’t say so.

Half-hidden by the darkness, Sanji’s face flushed again. It was less about the close proximity and the warm breath on his neck, and more about the strange new concept that Zoro respected him. It seemed unreal, considering how much they got in each other’s faces about silly little things. There was something buried deep in his subconscious that responded to it, something he couldn’t control. It was waking up, and he couldn’t stop it in time. His fist closed on a handful of Zoro’s shirt, but he neither pulled nor pushed away with it. “What do you want from me?” he asked quietly.

Zoro looked down at the hand, and then back at Sanji, his dark eyes glittering in the half-light. “A chance,” he replied, just as quietly.

The cook snorted. “Is that like, ‘try it, you’ll like it’ or something?”

The swordsman began to leer. “Maybe.”

One thing Sanji was perpetually unable to admit to himself was that he didn’t always like being the dominant one. While the act of charming a lady involved a certain amount of submission to her wants and needs, once in bed, he was always the one in charge. Those ladies often turned into coquettes, wanting him to have the lead (and do all the work). Some part of him wanted it to be the other way around once in a while, but so far he was unlucky in the search. No woman would dominate him no matter how much he wanted one to. Even now he wouldn’t admit that Zoro’s offer played right into his secret need, though avoiding it served to tear down his last defenses. All he had left was hesitation. “I don’t know…”

“Think about it.” Zoro straightened up, giving him space. The hand released his shirt, letting him go. Without so much as an announcement, he turned and wandered off through the main room, presumably to get some air as he opened the door and stepped outside.

Alone at last, Sanji became aware of a familiar ache low in the pit of his stomach, and groaned to himself in embarrassment. It was downright wrong for him to be turned on in the least by his crewmate, because he still firmly held that he was not remotely interested in men. Some part of his mind suggested that he could still feel that way if it was just Zoro and no one else – just one man, not “men.” He shushed that part of his mind and went to wash up, beating down the faint sense of arousal with cold water and cold thoughts. It wasn’t until he had changed and was already curled up in bed in the dark that he realized he had failed to escape it – Zoro was going to join him in that bed shortly. He could have taken a pillow and gone to sleep on the floor in the main room, but he was loathe to give up the comfortable digs, so instead he concentrated on forgetting everything that just happened and getting to sleep first. As long as he was unconscious, he wouldn’t notice a bedmate and nothing would happen.

Zoro, meanwhile, wisely gave him the time alone before coming back in. The cool sea breeze was nice, and the sound of waves a soothing rhythm. He actually sat out on the same embankment where Sanji had been sitting the day his boat landed on the pink island, cross-legged, and meditated for a little while. Cooled and calmed, he stole quietly back in, locked the door, and prowled through the darkened house to the bedroom. He had timed it well – Sanji was definitely asleep, lying on his side facing away. Zoro tossed off his shirt and crawled into bed beside him, even foregoing his fair share of the blankets so as not to wake his comrade. He was a little surprised at himself, not sure where the desire to say and do all of that had come from. He was generally much better than that at squashing down his own wants and needs and keeping his thoughts locked behind that stoic face. Perhaps it was the fact that they were alone, none of the crew was around to overhear or serve as convenient excuses. Or, for all he knew, the island itself was influencing them. _Stupid pink island,_ he thought, before drifting off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART THREE: things get really heated. Yep, here's the porn.

When Zoro awoke in the morning, the space beside him in the bed was already empty. He stretched and scratched and pushed himself up, forgetting about his companion for the time being – the bathroom came first. He padded out to the kitchen in bare feet, still yawning, to find Sanji leaning against the prep counter writing something while he waited for breakfast to finish cooking. A mug of tea sat steaming before him. He glanced up at the sense of movement in his peripheral sight, and then went right back to what he was working on. “There’s tea if you want it,” he said plainly. “Bread’s baking, it should be up shortly.”

Zoro ruffled a hand through his tousled hair, making it even worse. “What’s for breakfast, besides bread?”

“Toast,” Sanji corrected him, “and fruit. It needs to be eaten before it goes bad.” He straightened up, setting down the stub of pencil he had found somewhere in the house. “There. Your list, of the kinds of things they’ll need to call in from the supply ship.”

“Mm.” Zoro stood across from him, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’ve been busy this morning.”

Sanji shrugged a little. “Figured I’d let you sleep. It’s not like the chores around this place are real hard.” He sipped at his tea, and then checked the timer sitting close at hand. Zoro poured himself some while the cook turned and pulled the fresh bread out of the oven. While it cooled, he took the fruit out of the icebox and prepared it, cutting apples into slices, peeling oranges, and hacking a melon into chunks. It was a simple breakfast, but tasty nonetheless, with honey for the toast and strong black tea. Zoro looked over the list while he ate, trying to think through what he would say to the island chief to get her to call the supply ship in time. Most of his ideas completely disappeared from his head by the time he was dressed and ready to carry out the mission. Neither man said anything about what had happened yesterday, focusing on what was ahead instead. It wasn’t necessarily out of a sense of shame or avoidance, they merely needed to take care of more important things for the time being.

The entire time Zoro was inside the purple house in the clearing, Sanji paced and fretted. He stayed within eye- and earshot, just in case there was trouble, but refused to let himself be glimpsed. The threats of being encouraged to explore his feminine side were still fresh in his mind, and he was in no hurry to find out just how serious they were. Every few minutes he would tell himself that this couldn’t possibly work, that the oafish swordsman didn’t know enough about being charming or about food to properly convey just how crucial it was to call in an order and have the supply ship bring it as quickly as possible. He didn’t know how long it had been, but it seemed to be taking a long time. That made him wonder if Zoro really had become a victim of the transvestites. He would look hideous in a dress – though that would be hilarious. And it would serve him right, for doubting Sanji. But in the end, Sanji really didn’t want to see that happen. It didn’t feel right, and there was the whole matter of it being against their will. At least that steered his mind off down a tangent about whether the locals had any concept of equality or if they were blinded by their cause to the point of being unable to believe that anyone should rather like being a man and want to stay that way. He had half a mind to stand up and give them an earful about tolerance being a two-way street when the door to the house finally opened, and Zoro came out still in his shirt and pants. He put some distance between himself and the doorway before turning and offering a stiff bow toward the figure lurking just inside, and then hastened away at a pretty good clip.

Sanji had to restrain himself from bursting out of the bushes and accosting his comrade to find out what happened. As it was, Zoro almost blundered right into him, and then held up a hand to forestall his questions. “Not now,” he hissed urgently. “Let’s get the hell out of here, first. I’ll tell you when we get back.”

Safe inside the lonely house once again, Sanji broke out what was left of the sake to help speed the story along. Zoro pushed aside the glass and took the bottle instead, having a good gulp first. “Out with it,” Sanji demanded. “Did you get them to make the call?”

“Yeah, I did,” Zoro assured, taking another sip. “Toward the end there I think they were getting suspicious of me, but they rang up the supplier anyway.”

“And?”

The swordsman set the bottle firmly on the counter between them. He was finally relaxed enough to begin to smirk. “The day after tomorrow. It sounded like they were in port right now, and could load cargo before they ship out.”

Sanji broke out in a beaming grin and a light, relieved laugh. “Yes! Only two more days on this island, we can survive that long!” He grabbed the bottle and poured himself a drink to celebrate.

Zoro snorted at him. “What, you’re not really going to cook for them?”

“Hell no,” Sanji scoffed. “The minute that ship touches land, we’re on it. End of story.” He raised his glass to Zoro. “I don’t know how the hell you did it, but you did.”

Zoro took the bottle back and raised it as well. “What can I say? Those guys were just really interested in having a banquet in their honor.”

They both drank, and then Sanji wondered, “Those guys? It was more than just ‘Elizabeth’ there?”

“Yeah, she had a couple friends over,” Zoro reported. “Crazy as loons, the lot of them. I finally get what you were saying.” He shook himself as if with a shiver. “They kept trying to steer the conversation toward my dissatisfaction with the male-dominated world and crap like that. I swear the only thing that kept them from deciding ‘flower print or paisley’ was that I kept bringing you up.” He shot a wicked grin over the mouth of the sake bottle. “They’re _real_ interested in you, Prince. And in the fact that you’re a chef. For some reason that really got their attention.”

“Augh...” Sanji glowered at him, and then tossed back the rest of his drink. “I don’t want to know the details. I’ll have nightmares. As long as it worked and we’ll be able to get on a ship in two days, that’s all that matters.”

“Yeah, yeah. It worked.” Zoro made a disgruntled face and drowned his memory of the whole time inside that house in more alcohol.

“Now to survive until then – and keep out of sight.” Sanji rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “The only problem with our plan is that it might have made some of them curious about us. I don’t want to have to deal with any visitors.”

“Keep the door locked,” Zoro said dryly, tipping the bottle to pour his comrade another drink.

Sanji grumbled a bit, permitting the refill. “Easier said than done. I was thinking about washing a few things...get the blood out of my suitcoat for example...”

“You can do that without going outside,” Zoro shrugged, content to hog what was left in the bottle for himself. “Or, well, I suppose, only being out for a real short time.”

“I might have to.” Sanji sipped more slowly at his second glass, savoring the sake now that it had had a couple days to chill nicely. “There’s no telling where that supply ship will dump us off, unless you had the foresight to ask that.”

The swordsman gave him a vaguely sheepish look with the mouth of the bottle still pressed to his lips. Sanji nodded. “Uh huh, I thought so.”

“Come on, give me a break!” Zoro complained. “I pulled off the important part of the plan without a hitch!”

“Yeah, yeah. You did, I’m not going to argue that.” Sanji heaved an exaggerated sigh, feigning disappointment. “I suppose we’ll just have to take our chances and find out when we get there. But the fact remains – I’m not waiting until we reach port to have a clean change of clothes.”

Zoro glanced down at the shirt he had pulled out of the house’s wardrobe that morning. It was a black, short-sleeved number that buttoned up, and he had actually gone and buttoned it for the meeting. He decided now was a good time to fix that. “Why don’t we just raid this place? I thought I saw a bag or something in the back of the closet. It’s not like anyone lives here and needs these clothes anymore.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that.” Sanji raised the glass to his lips, deliberately averting his gaze from the sight of Zoro’s fingers moving down the front of his shirt, unfastening buttons one by one. “We’ve got enough time, I can wash stuff, so if there’s anything in there you want, let me know.”

“Anything that fits,” Zoro muttered, relaxing contentedly now that his bandaged torso was open to the air. “I’m not picky. There’s no telling how long the trip back is going to take, it’s better to be prepared.”

“How much money do you have on you?”

Zoro resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “How much do you think?”

The cook gave him that same look back. “So we’re going to have to find some way of getting a few extra beli, also, in case we have to book passage or something. My wit and charm will only get us so far across the ocean.”

“We’re pirates, dumbass,” his comrade felt the need to mention. “Booking passage ought to be the last resort, we’ve got far better ways of getting a boat.”

“I’d still feel better if we had more in our pockets than what little change I have,” Sanji sighed. “Life is always better with more beli.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Zoro’s voice was quiet, but confident, as he leaned on the counter and swirled around the dregs of the sake in the bottle. “We’ll make it one way or another.”

Sanji gazed at him for a long moment, and then finished off his drink in one quick shot. “Yeah. I’m not worried. We’ve faced worse shit than this.”

Zoro raised his eyes, catching his gaze. The lingering moment bothered Sanji enough that he turned around and retreated into the safety of the kitchen proper, digging through the icebox and cabinets. _Figures_ , the green-haired swordsman thought to himself, though he didn’t voice it aloud. “What’s for dinner?”

“It’s the middle of the afternoon, dinner’s a long way off,” Sanji retorted. “What does it matter?”

“Just curious.” Zoro tilted his head, as if trying to see around the cook to the contents of the kitchen. “Anything we can raid out of there and take with us?”

“Probably not.” He was poking around the pantry at the moment. “I’ll make sure we finish off the perishables before we take off. Everything else...well, there’s not a lot I can use without having a full kitchen and other items.” Sanji closed the pantry door and looked toward Zoro again, his expression rather thoughtful. “That’s the main reason for getting our hands on some money. Food.”

“If anybody knows how to keep from starving, you do,” Zoro assured him. Stroking Sanji’s ego was a sure way to get him to stop complaining. “That’s your job.”

“Feh...” Sanji took a moment to pull out a cigarette and light it. “There’s more to not starving than my cooking, you know.”

Chuckling to himself, Zoro pushed away from the counter and brought the now-empty liquor bottle into the kitchen to be disposed of. Without even trying, he brushed shoulders with his comrade as he passed, and completely failed to notice him pause for a moment. “So is that your plan for the rest of the day, curly-cook?” he taunted airily. “Making yourself domestic, doing the laundry and all?”

“Get off my back, moss-head,” Sanji shot back over his shoulder. “How the hell else are we going to kill time? I’m not going for a walk on this damn island.”

“Not even with a bodyguard?” Zoro grinned widely; teasing Sanji was still fun, even after what had passed between them the night before.

Sanji turned smoothly and pushed his forearm against Zoro’s chest, giving him a shove back. “You really don’t want to get on my bad side,” he purred, smirking around the cigarette. “Or else I’d be happy to teach you what it’s like to starve.”

“Joke’s on you, then,” Zoro smirked back. “I already know.” He deflected the pushy arm with a quick movement of his wrist and continued along his merry way out of the kitchen. As he retreated down the hallway, he heard Sanji growl under his breath, but there was nothing further from him. All Zoro planned was to gather up the clothes he had arrived in so he could add them to the laundry pile, so long as his comrade was going to do some washing. He, too, wondered how they were going to pass the time locked away safely in the tiny house, besides eating and sleeping. He knew what he would like, but he wasn’t a fool – there was no sense pining after it.

In the kitchen, Sanji was in the process of stubbing out his cigarette, saving the rest for later, when the pile of dirt- and blood-stained clothing was deposited in front of him. He pursed his lips in an unamused expression. “That better be all of it.”

“I didn’t grab any of your stuff,” Zoro noted. “This is all just mine.”

“Dammit, Zoro...” Sanji peered at him. “I’m not just going to roll over and let you take advantage of me.”

Zoro paused in the act of setting his three swords aside against the single, lonely chair in the sitting room, straightening up and tossing a dangerous grin over his shoulder. “Be careful how you phrase things, cook,” he warned teasingly. “You keep giving me terrible ideas.”

Had Sanji still been smoking, he would have choked on his cigarette at that. His face flushed bright red as he swallowed a shout of protest and resisted starting another fight. He knew the swordsman was just trying to bait him, and had to rein himself in lest he reveal that it was working. It took all his willpower to spin around and bustle about the kitchen, pretending to work. Behind him, he heard Zoro’s low, knowing laugh and twitched; _asshole just can’t let it go_ , he complained to himself. A minute later, he could sense by the movement behind him that the fool was in his kitchen again. Without even looking, Sanji twisted and reached up, snatching the hand that was trying to sneak over his shoulder to nab a chunk of the bread left over from that morning. It was just like the guy to take after Luffy when there wasn’t any competition around, trying to steal food between meals. Fortunately, Sanji was used to this and stopped him in mid-grab with a firm grip on his wrist. He followed through with the move, tugging Zoro towards him and then reversing him so that he was backed against the pantry door. “Haven’t you learned anything?” he groused. “You’re far less stealthy than Luffy, and that’s saying something.”

Zoro was genuinely disappointed, from the furrow in his brow. “Aw, come on! It’s just the two of us and there’s plenty to go around. I’m hungry!”

“You can wait.” Yet, Sanji didn’t release his grip. He finally had the advantage, and without thinking, found himself taking a step closer in order to pin Zoro’s wrist to the door. There was no resistance. Sanji’s gaze lowered a fraction to the swordsman’s lips, without thinking. The growing tension between them needed to be dispelled, but he was trying not to fight. An instant later they were lunging at each other, rushing headlong into a hard, unrestrained locking of lips. 

There was no sweetness to it, it was wild and vigorous and lustful. Sanji let go of the wrist and pressed both hands against Zoro’s chest, savaging his lips with complete abandon. Not about to be dominated, Zoro countered by clenching a fistful of blond hair and wrapping his other arm around Sanji’s lower back, pulling him closer as if to devour him. The cook’s hands abruptly thudded against the pantry door, his entire body committed to the ravaging kisses. There was no finesse to it, but plenty of passion, their mouths and tongues battling for control, bruising and biting, filling the space between with a rising heat. Some tiny part of Zoro’s mind recoiled a bit at the taste of cigarettes, but the sweet burn of sake was there too, and a hot masculinity that played into his personal desires. Sanji wasn’t thinking at all, except for the instincts needed to wrestle the other’s mouth into submission and teach him the hard way how to properly kiss another. They kept going like that until Sanji felt a hand splay across his ass, and his stomach lurched in response. He broke off with a gasp, only then realizing what he was doing, becoming suddenly aware of his wet lips, the sweat on his neck, and a pounding in his chest. Inches from his gaze, dark eyes and a feral grin faced him. Against his better judgment, Sanji found himself hissing, “Not in the kitchen.”

“Eh?” Zoro was feeling a little dizzy himself, breathless and too warm.

“ _Not_ in the _kitchen_.” Sanji pushed himself back, but Zoro immediately came with him, eagerly backing him out of the actual kitchen area and into the open space that served as dining, sitting, and main room all together. Despite his combined interests of food and romance, Sanji refused to allow his kitchen to be desecrated with any kind of mess, even the kind that stemmed from a moment of passion. He stumbled against the random chair but managed to correct himself before knocking it or the three swords over. Zoro grabbed him a bit roughly to catch him, and then descended on his neck and throat with the same wild abandon as before. The sensation drove all rational thought from Sanji’s mind. He couldn’t stop himself from heaving a low, strangled gasp as his back touched another wall and hot, wet lips roamed up and down his neck, followed by the tip of a nose that trailed all the way up under his jaw. The jingle of three earrings was muffled against his collar and then his cheek as Zoro kissed all the way up to his ear. In all his time, Sanji had never had it like this, and all he could think was _more. More!_

Zoro’s ferocity trailed off as he reached Sanji’s earlobe, and for a moment he turned gentle, pressing their cheeks together, his against the sheaf of blond hair that covered the cook’s left eye. He could feel and hear Sanji’s panting breath against his ear, and the barest brush of lips against the lobe that bore those earrings. This moment was too important for words, so he remained quiet, letting his companion get used to this new development at his own pace. Besides, he also needed to catch his breath. Zoro felt a hand come to rest against the back of his neck, and then the other grab a hold of his haramaki. “What the fuck are we doing?” Sanji breathed in his ear.

“That’s a stupid question,” the swordsman replied, wrapping himself around the other’s slender body as they both leaned against the wall. At that, Sanji took a tight hold of his shirt collar, almost as if clinging in fear, and buried his face in Zoro’s neck. Zoro smiled to himself at the feel of that scruffy chin scraping across his skin in a spot left bare between bandages, thankfully. “You wanna stop?” he asked in a husky murmur.

“Shit...” Sanji pried his head up, letting it fall back against the wall. He needed to breathe, to think, but the answer was already pretty clear. “Can’t stop,” he said after a minute, resignedly. His body would never forgive him if he said to stop now, it was well past the point of a cold shower. He finally allowed himself to open an eye and look, and face Zoro directly. At least the swordsman had the decency to also be blushing, and looking just as disheveled. There was no taunt in his hazy smile, now, even though he had scored exactly what he wanted. Sanji could only look him in the eye for so long before he lowered his gaze, but that meant getting an eyeful of tanned skin and taut muscles, the contours of which were barely hidden by bandages below the neck. He felt like he was losing control, and hastily whispered something in order to try to regain some semblance of himself before it went too far. “Just...not...all the way. I’m not ready for that...”

“Mm?” Zoro caught on quickly, and nodded, his eyes traveling down Sanji’s neck to his collarbone. “Yeah, all right. There’s other stuff we can do.”

“Just don’t make me regret it,” Sanji growled through clenched teeth. He figured if he was going to go through with it, it had better be worth it. His body demanded more, and he wasn’t the sort of man to deny his body what it wanted.

Zoro grinned eagerly, sliding his hands slowly down the cook’s lithe form. “Trust me,” he assured, “you won’t have anything to complain about when I’m done with you.”

His choice of words made Sanji’s body flush hot beneath his touch. It drove straight to his subconscious desire, the wish to be receiver instead of giver for once. The feel of rough hands, thick muscles, and masculine lips was not off-putting like he had expected; Zoro was all angles and planes, rather than curves, and somehow it fit against Sanji’s body just fine as he resumed kissing his face and neck. Those strong hands made quick, if imperfect, work of the buttons down the front of Sanji’s shirt, and he bit back another moan when warm lips caressed down the center of his bare chest. He thought it would be better if he didn’t watch, but in the end he couldn’t help himself, particularly when Zoro knelt down in front of him to follow the line of his torso. He glanced down as the sequence of kisses worshipped his abs, and felt a strange ache stab him in the chest at the sight of tough-as-nails Zoro with his eyes half-closed in near reverence as he ran his lips over Sanji’s stomach. Hands came to rest on Sanji’s slim hips, but for now went no lower than that. Clearly, the swordsman had done this before, for him to be so comfortable with it. Sanji scrubbed his fingers through short, green hair, giving his consent with that touch and discovering inadvertently that he liked the feel. Zoro’s close-cropped hair was coarse from wind and sea, the texture teased the pads of his fingertips as he caressed the back of his would-be partner’s head. Dark eyes lifted and then narrowed in a smile, the only warning Sanji had before his belt was hastily unbuckled.   
Zoro didn’t give him a chance to hesitate or change his mind, tugging down the black trousers and underlying briefs to expose a rather healthy, growing erection. He used one hand to press the cook’s hips against the wall and keep him there, ignoring the way he tensed for now – unless he asked to stop, there would be no turning back now. With his other hand, he gripped the shaft and tilted it gently, so the sensitive underside lay exposed to be licked and kissed. And that was precisely what he did. The hand on the back of his head clenched into a fist, trapping some of the short hair and tugging. Zoro didn’t mind a little pain and aggression, even if he was being far less ferocious at the moment, and grinned to himself as he tasted the velvety skin. He wasn’t superbly experienced at this, but being a man himself, knew what he liked, and figured he couldn’t go wrong with fondling Sanji the way he would want in turn. Judging by the hisses and moans coming from above him, he was on the right track. He licked and sucked and rubbed with his thumb, pleased with himself for getting the cook into this position and, quite literally, getting a rise out of him. He closed his mouth around the head and sucked gently, rolling his tongue across the slick surface, until he heard Sanji’s fist hit the wall with a crash. The fist in his hair was pulling him closer, demanding more, so Zoro decided to break off and look up instead. Sanji’s head was tilted back again, but he opened his visible eye and glared down at the man on his knees. “What are you stopping for?”

“Don’t rush me.” Zoro clawed his way up Sanji’s lean body in order to get to his feet, leering into his face as he pressed against him, chest to chest, hips to hips. The subtle grind made Sanji growl under his breath, and he grabbed for a fistful of shirt collar again, this time in demand. Zoro relished having control, and stood there wearing a cool smirk while one hand groped down into the folds of Sanji’s trousers. He worked the pants down enough that they dropped to the floor on their own with a soft thump and a jingle of the chain on the belt. In turn, Sanji lunged and roughly kissed him again, wrestling himself away from the wall as best he could with the momentum. He yanked on Zoro’s shirt, pulling it down off his shoulders to expose his well-wrapped chest and arms. Zoro took the hint and wriggled out of it, though he maintained his position and didn’t let his comrade escape until he was good and ready. They didn’t break the kiss the whole time, even for breath. Zoro was enjoying it enough to make it last a few moments longer, sliding a hand up Sanji’s neck into his hair to keep him in place while they tangled tongues. At least, until Sanji ground his hips forward, enticed by the texture of the swordsman’s haramaki brushing against his erection and seeking more. Zoro snapped alert and, with a growl, pulled him off the wall, turned, and slammed him onto his back on the floor. It wasn’t enough to injure Sanji, or even knock the wind out of him, but it startled him just long enough for Zoro to get the upper hand once again – and finish divesting him of his pants and shoes. He sat astride the cook’s legs, treating himself to a good look at his aroused body with a leering grin that made Sanji flush red. While he was sitting there, he wrestled off his haramaki and cast it aside, and began to unbutton his pants.

Sanji seemed to come to his senses for a second, pushing himself up on his elbows. “Hang on. Just...what are you going to do?” he asked warily.

“Relax,” Zoro assured, rolling his eyes. “You said you didn’t want to go there so I won’t. But I’m not just gonna let you have all the fun.” As he peeled his pants open, it was obvious that all this activity was having an effect on him as well. Both of them had seen each other naked plenty of times, in the bath, and thought nothing of it, but _erect_ , well, that was different. Particularly since it happened to be due to each other, and not someone or something else. Zoro freed himself, but then immediately shifted his hand to Sanji’s cock instead, stroking him gently. His eyes were fixed on the cook’s face. “Are you going to turn chicken now, after we got this far?”

Sanji was still breathing heavily, resting on his elbows with nowhere to run. His gaze wandered up from the hand on him to Zoro’s face, taking in everything along the way. The swordsman’s broad chest and muscled torso were still mostly wrapped in bandages, though they only served to highlight the contours of his muscles instead of hide them. There was sweat on his neck, and a surprisingly serious look on his face. In that instant, Sanji understood what he meant about _respect_. He may not have had it in him to find men attractive the way he did women, but one look at the body positioned over his and he knew he admired this man’s physique. He _liked_ it. He liked the furrowed brow, the angle of his collarbones, the bandanna still tied tight around his left biceps, even the callused fingertips playing up and down the length of his shaft. The sight of Zoro’s erection poised dangerously close to his own did not frighten him as much as he expected. He was getting over his moment of hesitation rather quickly, but he needed to face the challenge as well. “I’m not chicken,” he insisted angrily. “You think making me out to be a coward is going to shame me into going through with it?”

“Maybe.” Zoro’s lazy smile was back. “If you think you need to be shamed. I was kind of thinking this...” He nodded his head toward the shaft he was patiently working. “...meant you were happy with it so far.”

“Nnh...” Sanji had to catch his breath. It really was quite good, for desperate circumstances. He didn’t want to say so, because he didn’t want to leave Zoro thinking he was winning. He reached out and closed his hand on the man’s wrist, stopping his movement for a second. “If that’s all you got,” he panted, “I could do that myself.”

“You won’t let me do what I really want,” Zoro taunted him. “But as for this…” He let go and crawled forward, pushing at Sanji to get him to lie back again. Already off-balance, the cook had no choice but to let his other elbow slide until his back met the floor. He was still half-dressed, his open shirt clinging to his shoulders and sleeves rolled up. Zoro prowled over him and bent his head to kiss him again, keeping him pinned with one hand clutching a shoulder and the other splayed on the floor next to his head. It was a slow, deep kiss, gradually building in intensity until Sanji growled beneath him and pulled him down into something much harder and fiercer. At that, Zoro lowered his hips and let their erections rub together. Sanji broke off with a gasp, but he wasn’t given long to react – those lips attacked his again, prying and savaging until the growl in his throat came back. He bit Zoro’s lip in his eagerness, and received a low, sly chuckle for it. Zoro pushed himself up a bit, shifting his weight so he could move one hand – sliding it down Sanji’s shoulder to his chest, pushing his shirt open further, and continuing on down to where their hips met. He was no longer sitting to trap the cook, he raised himself up enough that he could grasp both their cocks in one loose fist and give them a gentle squeeze. He almost made a snarky comment, but the groan Sanji gave at that touch was too good to taunt. So, he went to work instead, curving his palm over both heads and rubbing so that the two most certainly slid back and forth against each other’s most sensitive spots.

The sensation was like nothing Sanji had before, and he usually prided himself on his experience. He was quickly rendered a blushing mess beneath Zoro, panting and scrabbling to find a safe place to grab hold of him – knowing what injures lay hidden beneath the bandages. He ended up clutching the back of the man’s neck and the knot of the bandanna around his left arm, which gave him good enough leverage to stretch up and continue kissing him. Zoro gave a low moan as lips chased his neck up to his jaw, and tipped his head up to encourage the exploration. Now this, Sanji knew his way around. Even if it wasn’t a smaller, slender girl, he was an expert kisser in his own right. He traced the strong line of Zoro’s muscular neck with a series of small, unhurried nibbles, concentrated more firmly on the spot where his pulse throbbed under his skin, and mapped out the shape of his jawline and cheek. When Zoro’s face tilted back toward him, he molded their mouths together and slipped his tongue inside, giving him a slow and thorough education in kissing technique that left _him_ the one breaking off for air this time. At least Zoro did not still the movement of his hand the entire time, though his finesse was a bit lacking toward the end while his attention was divided. His weight was perfectly balanced on one forearm and his knees, giving just enough space between them for him to comfortably work both shafts at the same time. As if to encourage him, Sanji discovered how much room he had to move and rolled his hips up, grinding them even further together. Zoro shifted back, pushing himself back up to a seat to trap Sanji, and grinned wickedly as he changed to a two-handed grip – and sped up. Within moments Sanji was groaning loudly, his chin tipped up and legs flexing beneath his comrade’s weight. He wanted to thrust and couldn’t. At least he still had his hands free to grab at Zoro’s knees. The swordsman chuckled darkly at being able to have such control and gave a rougher tug, bending Sanji’s cock to meet his as he leaned back even more. Sanji heaved a gasp and pushed himself up, awkwardly propping an elbow behind him. They were still fighting, even though they were working toward mutual pleasure. Zoro sat there and watched, still grinning, still stroking, varying between hard pumps and gentle caresses. With a lunge Sanji pushed himself as close to sitting as he could, hooked his arms around Zoro’s neck and pulled him in for a savage kiss that was more teeth than lips. He was permitted, for a bit, but then Zoro fought back by withdrawing one hand and wrapping it around the cook’s scruffy chin instead, demanding nothing but implying everything with that touch. Sanji broke off, sliding one hand across Zoro’s neck to his cheek, brushing the earrings along the way. He looked like he wanted to say something, but didn’t. Lowering his eyes, Zoro snatched a brief taste of those wet lips and then pounced, grabbing the wrist right next to his face and dragging Sanji back down onto the floor, this time holding him down. His hips surged forward and his strokes resumed with vigor, and he did not let go of that wrist.

Very quickly, Sanji was reduced to swearing loudly, flexing his hand against the grip that had him pinned and clenching the other in short, green hair. His hips had the freedom of movement again, so he moved them – with his feet braced on the floor, he could thrust up into Zoro’s hand all he wanted. Doing so ground their bodies together, hips and groins, balls rolling comfortably against each other, magnifying the frantic sensations. Zoro even pressed down against him to make it even rougher, hotter, relying on the movement more and his clumsy strokes less. His fingers curled around the pair of heads, kneading them together and groping into all the good spots, slicking them both up with the first drops of fluid leaking out. He smirked and purred at the tugging in his hair, licking his lips at the sight of the man stretched out beneath him. Sanji was not surrendering quietly, panting and groaning and pushing back against the body bearing him down. The clear sign that he was enjoying every minute of it was the fact that he had just enough foothold to use his flexible and powerful legs to flip Zoro and escape – and he didn’t. Instead, he was thrusting and grinding in a desperate effort to make it even better. Zoro held him down and rode him hard, thrusting against him in kind so that their nicely-paired cocks slid up together into his clutches. The cursing died down, but Sanji still gasped and cried, nearly pulling Zoro’s head down to him as his whole body tensed and tightened. Zoro obeyed the demand and lowered his head, though all he did was rest his face next to Sanji’s and pant in his ear as both neared their destination. His hand practically stilled while their bucking hips did all the work, though their rhythm was completely mismatched and the movement fast and erratic. Sanji’s fingertips pressed into the bandaged skin of Zoro’s back, and he growled against his ear to keep from swearing again. Both were completely abandoned to this shameless rutting on the floor, doing their best to drive themselves wild against the other and doing a pretty good job of it. Both were close, panting hard, sweating, grunting, moaning. For a moment, there was nothing but the slap of their bodies together and the slick friction of hand and hardness, and then Sanji gulped and grabbed his comrade around the shoulders, hissing, “Zoro...!” in the instant before he came.

The surge of heat and the sudden splash between their bodies drove Zoro even harder and faster, and he moved his hand to grab Sanji’s hip and hold him down. He was doing all the thrusting now, rubbing himself against the other’s groin to get himself the rest of the way there. Beneath him, Sanji was still gasping and yelping as he rode out his orgasm, his arm tight around his comrade’s neck. Zoro gave a sudden jerk and then growled through clenched teeth, burying his face in Sanji’s shoulder as he reached his peak and finally stopped moving. He wilted and then sprawled over the slender body underneath him, letting go of Sanji’s wrist and flopping lazily with a big, contented sigh. Sanji made a small noise in his throat, but otherwise just laid there trying to catch his breath, hardly moving at all but for a small flex of his right hand to make sure he could still feel it. His mind wasn’t catching up with the rest at all, or he might have realized exactly where he was and what he just did. After a minute, Zoro pried himself up and dragged his lips tiredly across Sanji’s collarbone before giving him a sly grin. “I never took you for a screamer, cook.”

Sanji caught his breath suddenly with a strangled noise in his throat, as he met Zoro eye to eye. “Fuck you!” he breathed, embarrassed and angry.

“Already did.” Zoro propped himself up enough that he wasn’t crushing the slender cook with his weight, still grinning. “Relax. It wasn’t an insult, all right?” He let his head droop against the other’s shoulder, breathing a soft sigh. “Pretty good, eh? At least, I had fun.”

Huffing, Sanji turned his gaze to the ceiling so as to avoid a direct look. They were too close for his comfort. “You’d better not be the guy who falls asleep right after he’s finished. I need you to get off me.”

“I’m not...at least not now.” Zoro picked his head back up and sniffed at the reaction. Sanji was clearly still breathing heavily, sweat shining on his neck. “I’m gonna get up and clean off anyway.”

He shifted off of Sanji, deciding to slip out of his pants since they were halfway down already, and got up, padding away down the hallway proudly naked. Sanji remained where he was in the middle of the floor, half-dressed, blond hair disheveled, and a complete mess both physically and mentally. He raised his arms and pressed the heels of his hands to his face, into his brows, fighting back a shaky reaction. It was finally catching up with him. He wasn’t ashamed of what he did, he was ashamed that he _liked_ it. His body was tired, sated, his stomach splattered with semen from both of them, and he was really craving a cigarette – that usually meant it was good. He enjoyed it despite it being a man, being Zoro; that was exactly why he laid there wondering if he had finally gone insane from the island. He couldn’t lay in the middle of the living room forever, he also needed to clean up and redress and somehow find it in himself to go on with his day. Dinner wouldn’t cook itself. Swallowing his thoughts as best he could, Sanji sat up and grabbed for his black trousers, and tottered down the hall to the bathroom with his head down. Naturally, he met Zoro in the doorway, but wouldn’t look at him. Zoro seemed to expect this, so he simply stepped out of the way with a sigh. Sanji ignored him while he washed up and put his pants back on, though he was well aware that the swordsman was still standing just outside the door as if waiting for him. There was nowhere to run, he was trapped there until he finished buttoning his shirt. He didn’t bother tucking it back in, it was pointless – the shirt was wrinkled to hell anyway. Zoro remained shirtless, though the bandages covered much of his flesh regardless. He was just outside the door, Sanji sensed him and heard him breathing even if he was just out of sight. “What do you want from me?” he asked heavily, not even able to lift his gaze to look in the mirror at himself.

“You’re being all weird on me,” Zoro complained quietly. “Even though you started it.”

Sanji nearly snarled a denial and launched into an argument, but he knew it was true. He was actually the one who had initiated the kiss in the kitchen. He leaned his hands against the sink, hanging his head over it. He had splashed water on his face, and now just let it drip off. “Do you blame me?” he responded with a touch of anger. “This isn’t usual for me.”

“It’s just sex,” Zoro shrugged. “Hardly even, we didn’t do much besides jerk each other off for the most part.”

“Yeah, well it’s still not the sort of thing I do every day.” Sanji pushed himself away from the sink and stepped into the doorway, finally lifting his head to meet the eyes of the man he’d just had sex with. Zoro was standing just to the side of the door, arms folded over his bandaged chest, clean water still beaded on his neck as well. His eyes were dark and serious, but one eyebrow was crooked upward in curiosity. Sanji faced him, his lips set sternly. “Get off my back about it.”

Zoro held himself back for a moment, but then stepped into his path and bent his head. He stopped a fraction of an inch away, because Sanji flinched. Instead of kissing him, Zoro spoke softly. “I wasn’t kidding. I liked it. But if you’re gonna be this way, consider it a one-time shot.” His hand came up and glanced across Sanji’s cheek, and then he was gone, heading for the bedroom. Sanji swallowed hard and retreated to the kitchen, consoling himself with the only things that really calmed his nerves fully – a cigarette, and cooking.

It was harder to maintain the usual indifference over dinner and nighttime chores that evening. They didn’t talk much, and Sanji found it difficult to meet Zoro’s eyes for the most part. He was trying not to think about what happened, at least for now while still in the other man’s presence. Neither knew what to do about sleeping that night, so they put it off as long as possible. Zoro had napped earlier, and went outside after dinner, leaving the cook to take care of his preparation and cleaning routines all by himself. Fortunately, none of the locals appeared to be lurking around their temporary abode yet, so it was safe to sit outside on the beach, look at the stars, and do some exercises to test his stamina and body’s limitations. Zoro felt like he could probably take off some of the bandages tomorrow, but didn’t push it for now. When he went back inside and locked up, he noted that Sanji still didn’t seem to want to talk to him or be around him. It was frustrating, since their encounter really had been very good and worth the trouble, but Zoro could at least be content with knowing that he had screwed Sanji, dominated him but good and left him reeling. The fact that he was slinking around acting like such a woman right now was annoying, but Zoro could get over it. The question was, would Sanji?

While left alone to his chores, Sanji felt more able to let go and think, or at least stop scolding himself for what he did. There was no mistake anymore, it really was his own doing. If he hadn’t wanted to, there were plenty of opportunities for him to say stop, to walk away even. He didn’t even have the tried and true old excuse of getting too drunk and waking up with regrets – they had pounced on each other in totally sober states of mind. After Zoro came in, looked at him, and went right on past to get ready for bed, Sanji took his turn stepping outside. He took a cigarette out of his pocket and placed it between his lips, but stopped before lighting it. A stiff breeze was still blowing and the ocean crashed against the shore just below, bringing with it the scent of the open sea. Sanji leaned against the wall of the house and tipped his head back, not really seeing much of the sky even though his stare seemed to be focused upward. In the end, he really didn’t know how he felt about the whole thing, and that probably bothered him the most. For all the talk of it being “just sex,” some of their actions had bordered on tenderness, actual appreciation instead of base treatment of the other as an object of pleasure. Sanji had shut Zoro out afterward not because he didn’t like what had happened, but because he liked it too much, and didn’t know how to reconcile that with the rest of his life, his wants and needs. He still loved Nami. He still loved women, _real_ women with their curves and softness, their lips and hands and breasts and beauty. He wanted nothing more than to get off this island of lies and deception and fall back into the arms and bosoms of gorgeous women _some_ where, anywhere! So how could he have even conceived of rolling around on the floor with Zoro, let alone gone through with it? It didn’t make sense. _Maybe it’s the island_ , he mused to himself. _Maybe I was right, and there’s something in the water. At least it’s not making me want to throw on a taffeta ballgown...thank heaven for small favors._

He stood out there for a long time and never got around to lighting his cigarette. When the chill of the night air finally chased him back inside, he stashed the unlit cig in his tobacco purse and left it in the kitchen, and then forced himself to make the long walk down the short hallway to the bedroom. He stopped at the door to second-guess himself yet again, but really had no other choices. Even if he just grabbed a pillow and slept on the hard wood floor of the living room, Sanji still had to actually go in and face Zoro for a few seconds. If he were lucky, the swordsman would already be asleep. He pushed open the door as quietly as he could and found Zoro sprawled across his side of the bed, eyes closed and chest rising and falling in a slow, even rhythm. Sanji stood there gazing at him for a long moment before moving to change, tossing his day’s clothes in the pile that would be washed tomorrow. By the time he was ready, stealing a pillow and spending the night on the cold floor really didn’t appeal to him at all, so he sat down on the edge of the bed, giving himself a last chance to bolt if it came to that. There was no stirring from the other side, so Sanji let himself flop down into the blankets, though he remained tense and unsure whether he could even sleep until Zoro began to snore beside him. He was on his back, so it was some spectacular snoring at that. Sanji sighed; it only took an instant to be irritated, and in that instant he forgot all about being uncomfortable. He rolled over to glare at the sleeping figure, even though it wouldn’t stop the noise. There really was only one solution, and he did it without even stopping to think: he pushed at Zoro’s shoulder to get him to roll onto his side, and went with him, wrapping an arm around him to keep him there. Zoro coughed a bit but the snoring ceased almost immediately, replaced by a light sigh and then silence. Sanji probably could have eased off, then, but he didn’t, because the entire evening’s flailing about finally came to an end in his mind. He gave up, he had lost the battle. Whether it was the island’s influence or something else, there was no sense fighting it – for now. He slumped against the muscular body with a relenting sigh, already relaxing even though he was taking care not to let much more than his arm touch the other man. Then, Zoro spoke in a low, rumbly murmur. “...so what’s this about, now?”

Sanji bit back a retort. “You were snoring,” he explained simply.

“....ah.” That was all – he fell back asleep almost right after that. Sanji wilted and pressed his forehead into Zoro’s back. He really couldn’t win this at all. It was a comfortable position, though, and the late hour caught up to him before long, letting him finally sleep as well.

When dawn’s light finally crept into the room, pale and dim, it revealed that they hadn’t moved at all throughout the night. Sanji slept soundly with one arm over Zoro’s torso, nestled against his back keeping them both warm and the swordsman safe from his own snoring. Zoro blinked himself awake first, took note of the hand resting limp against his abdomen, and shifted enough to look over his shoulder and gauge the situation. He wasn’t sure what had changed overnight, but he didn’t question it. Easing onto his back, he laid for a bit just letting Sanji sleep, gazing idly up at the ceiling and wondering what time it was. Soon enough hunger and other urges would necessitate them both getting out of bed, but for now Zoro simply lounged, resting a hand over the one draped across his middle. Eventually, the body beside him stirred and Sanji’s visible eye hazily opened, regarding the state of affairs with no reaction. Zoro glanced at him, inwardly surprised that he didn’t jerk his hand away first thing upon waking. No, all Sanji did was take a deep breath and let it out slowly, letting his scruffy chin rest against the shoulder beside him. “Time’s it?” he mumbled.

“Dunno.” It was hard to gauge time from that room, as it faced west. There was no good way to determine how high the sun had risen from where they lay. Zoro found himself gently brushing his knuckles back and forth across Sanji’s arm, so long as the other didn’t recoil away. “You getting up?”

“Depends. Are you hungry?”

“Stupid question,” Zoro chuckled.

“Then I’ll get up and make breakfast.” But Sanji didn’t move. He seemed irresistibly slumped against Zoro, drowsy and content. He didn’t really notice the caress against his arm as something unique and unusual, for it was already curious enough that he let himself lie so close to his crewmate. After a few minutes, though, he was awake enough to think and knew he really did need to go and start breakfast. He pushed himself up to a seat and ruffled a hand through his hair, idly looking over Zoro’s languid body. “And you’re going to lay here until it’s ready, eh lazy-ass?”

Zoro crooked an arm beneath his head. “Maybe I should,” he teased, even though he had no intention of doing so. “What are you in such a hurry for? It’s not like you have to make a huge breakfast for the whole crew.”

Sanji’s expression flickered for only a moment, thinking of the crew. “Trying to get me in bed again already,” he snorted. “I don’t think so.”

“Am not,” Zoro snorted back.

Sanji looked at him, and finally pushed back the blankets to get up. “You know the kitchen rules,” he murmured as he crossed the room, not bothering to change out of the t-shirt and loose pants. “Don’t be late.”

Zoro’s eyes followed him out the door, at which point he stretched and scratched. His bandages were bothering him, so when the bathroom was free, he went and unwrapped most of them. The deepest wounds that still needed to be kept covered were over the center of his chest and his right arm, but everything else could be left to heal naturally now. He came out to the kitchen wearing only pants, and sat down to a cup of tea to wait for food. Sanji was just finishing up the prep and almost done with the cooking overall, having made the most of what eggs they had left by mixing in leftover meat and vegetables to make omelets. Paired with fruit and tea, it was more than enough. Zoro simply sat and watched him cook, his expression blank and revealing nothing of what he was thinking. As they ate, they only discussed the chores and other preparations that needed to get done that day, if they were to make a clean escape off the island tomorrow when the supply ship arrived. Besides the obvious laundry, they also needed to strip the little house of anything useful that they could easily carry and pack it away, and then plot their route to the quay to make it there before anyone else could come to unload supplies. Nothing was said at all regarding their personal encounters, and life went on as though nothing had happened. At least, until Zoro took a chance and brushed his hand gently across Sanji’s back as he passed him going out of the house to toss more wood into the furnace. Sanji straightened up sharply, but Zoro was already past him and gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Four: smut, smut, and more smut. One time was not enough.

Washing clothes by hand, particularly those bloodied by the fight on Sabaody, was a fairly time-consuming chore. Sanji demanded Zoro assist him so they wouldn’t be tied up doing it all day, though he lingered to finish the worst of it while the swordsman started rummaging through the house and packing whatever he could. There was, in fact, one decently-sized duffel stashed in the back of the wardrobe, possibly a cast-off from one of the émigrés to the island much like the clothing. Packing was easy after discarding the clothes that were clearly too big for either of them, all they had to do then was weed out the most undesirable of fashions. It was important to limit how much they took so as to fit in other items essential to sea travel – there was no telling what they would encounter between the pink island and the archipelago where the ship waited for its crew, so they had to be prepared for anything. The wet clothes were hung up outside on a jury-rigged line to dry in the wind and sun, at which point Sanji came back indoors to pronounce his decisions on what clothes he wanted packed. He was currently wearing a hooded shirt with a zipper up the front, since nearly everything else that fit was now dripping on the clothesline. “Well, the good news is,” he reported as he came up behind Zoro, rolling his sleeves down, “there doesn’t seem to be any sign of the locals after all.”

“I figured you were being paranoid about nothing,” Zoro retorted as he dug deep in the bag to try to squish something in better. “Although I would have laughed if they ambushed you while you were out there doing laundry.”

“Yeah, yeah, and _then_ who would feed you?” Sanji still had to go through the pantry, but that was best done after dinner when supplies were reduced to the barest of bare essentials. He peered over Zoro’s shoulder, mentally critiquing his packing method. “…you’re actually taking that shirt?”

“In case we pass by a winter island on the way,” Zoro explained with a touch of irritation. “I can’t help that the only warm clothing is hideous.”

“Idiot, when it’s cold you dress in layers, like I do.” Sanji took a long drag from the cigarette he was currently enjoying. “Whatever, as long as it doesn’t take up too much room.”

“Why, what are you planning to pack – a different colored shirt for every day?” Satisfied with making more room through aggressive squashing techniques, Zoro stood up and turned to eyeball his comrade. “You were the one who said to keep it to essentials.”

“I plan to!” the cook insisted. “Just get out of the way and let me handle it.” He waved a hand idly as he brushed past Zoro and began to sort through the clothes strewn all over the bed, most of which were more his style. In actuality, he and Zoro were nearly the same size – the swordsman was brawnier in the chest, but for the most part they could share any of these pieces of clothing, even pants. Without even turning his head, Sanji muttered, “…and you can stop giving me those kinds of looks.”

Zoro’s eyebrows went up; he had been casually gazing at his comrade’s back. “What looks?” he said, trying to play innocent.

“You’ve been eyeing me all day, like I’m a piece of meat.”

“Heh.” Zoro leaned against the wall by the door, giving plenty of space. “Maybe that’s how the women you look at feel. Ever thought about that?”

“Oi.” Sanji turned with a shirt in hand, pointing. “Get those ideas out of your head right now. Just because this island is turning us both into something we don’t want to be, doesn’t mean I have to bend over and take it.” He realized his turn of phrase too late, and flushed and sputtered when Zoro grinned. “I mean it!” he complained. “Whatever’s happening between us, it’s the fault of this damn island. It’s influencing us somehow!”

“Uh huh.” Zoro didn’t seem to buy his theory. “And how is it supposed to be doing that?”

“I don’t know – something in the water, or in the air,” Sanji reasoned. “Maybe even the pollen from all those heart-shaped flowers! What else could explain it?”

The swordsman folded his arms over his chest and shrugged. After a moment of pretending to think, he offered, “Maybe it’s natural.”

From the look on his face, clearly Sanji didn’t want to consider that possibility. He tossed the shirt into the pile of keepers with an angry flourish. He dropped the topic there and concentrated on his sorting, pausing only to take the last gasp of cigarette, crush it out against the sole of his shoe, and tuck the butt in a pocket for now. He didn’t notice Zoro push off from the wall, and the room was so small that by the time the other man had crossed to him, it was too late to fend him off. Zoro grabbed Sanji by the front of his hoodie and pulled him around to face him, wearing that serious look again. Sanji’s arm came up to block just in case. “Will you stop it with the manhandling?” he snarled.

“Only if you stop being an asshole and face facts,” Zoro snapped back. “You want to deny that you had sex with me _and liked it_ that’s your business. But taking it out on me just for being around is going to stop, right now. Got it? It happened – get over it.”

“I’m not…!” Sanji placed his hand on Zoro’s chest, presumably to push him away. “Okay maybe last night, but I’m being perfectly decent today! I just can’t take you constantly ogling me and trying to touch me, like it’s going to get you anywhere with me a second time!”

Zoro faced him for a moment, and then his eyes dropped. His hand eased away from the zippered front of the cook’s sweatshirt. “I can’t help it.”

“You see what I mean? It’s this damn island.” Even as he stood there, his irritation cooling off, Sanji found his hand creeping toward the collar of Zoro’s t-shirt, almost caressing. “Once we’re off it, we’ll come back to our senses.”

“Well, then…” Zoro didn’t believe this theory, but he was willing to let Sanji entertain it if it meant he would be less confrontational. He glanced down at the hand traveling across his now-exposed collarbone. “…if that’s true, what’s the harm in going with it? For now. Until we’re off the island and safe.”

The hand shifted and clenched on his shirt collar instead. “Stop trying to…”

“Look at yourself.” Zoro’s voice was low and husky, as he nodded to the hand on him. “You keep arguing but you’re edging closer to me. Denying it is just making you miserable. Do you really want to keep torturing yourself?”

Sanji took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to regain control of his senses. It was easier to admit that he was having these conflicting feelings when he thought he could blame them on the island. “Zoro,” he said weakly, “the solution to being out of your mind is never ‘just go with it.’”

“Why not? What’s the actual drawbacks?”

“Regretting it later when I sober up, for one!” Sanji drew back and clapped his hand over his face. “This isn’t anything…I’m not into men. I love women. I love Nami, and Robin! That isn’t going to change no matter what this place does to me.”

“I know.” Zoro remained still, his hands at his sides, his posture one of acquiescence. “I’m not asking for that to change.”

“Then what _do_ you want?”

He shrugged stiffly. “Have some fun. Go along with whatever’s happening here, since we’re miles away from the crew and no one is around to stop us.”

Sanji faced him squarely, his visible eye narrowing. “You promise you won’t ever tell anyone else on the crew what happened here? Not even Chopper, or Luffy – nobody finds out about this.”

“Yeah, yeah. Why would I tell them? I don’t go around bragging about who I’ve bedded,” Zoro pointed out. “You don’t know a thing about me because I don’t kiss and tell. Ever.”

For a moment Sanji regarded him, weighing his options. He had to trust Zoro at his word, but then, there never really was a reason _not_ to trust him. The swordsman valued his honor and his promises, it was part of who he was. At least he could take that as certain reassurance. He huffed and then nudged Zoro a bit, muttering, “We’re wasting time, and you’re in my way.”

“Stupid jerk.” Zoro decided it was time to push the limits, and not let him get away with changing the subject. Whether the cook was right or not, whether it was the island or not, he didn’t care. He refused to make room, and when Sanji turned to continue picking out clothes to keep, Zoro snaked an arm around his waist and pulled him against his body. He fully expected to be attacked, at minimum some flailing and yelling, but Sanji only let out an aggravated sigh. Zoro bent his head over the other man’s shoulder and nuzzled his neck, simply rolling with his instincts. Once he was sure he was not facing retaliation, he murmured, “Your secret is safe with me. I won’t tell.”

The soft touch and throaty voice were enough to spark Sanji’s desire all over again. He moaned quietly and let his head tilt back in response to the lips grazing his neck. He shook it off, though, and pried off the hand resting on his belt. “Not now,” he griped, giving Zoro a bit of an elbow in the gut. “I mean it, we’ve got shit to do.”

Zoro backed off at last, and turned away. “Fine, have it your way,” he sighed. “I’m going to check on the firewood situation.”

It was much easier for Sanji to finish his task when left alone, he made quick work of the decision and folded up everything that needed to be packed. The rest got put back away in the wardrobe of random fashion. He headed for the kitchen next, and was head-and-shoulders deep in the pantry looking for matches, candles, and other survival supplies when he heard the door. “Oi,” Zoro said loud enough to catch his attention, “we’ve got company.”

Sanji nearly smacked his head on the upper shelf as he yanked it back out to react to that news. “Shit! What the hell, who is it?”

“Dunno.” The swordsman was leaning on the door frame looking down the beach, the three swords on his hip where they belonged. “I’ll intercept, see what they want.”

Sanji was fine waiting inside until the visitor was gone, but he prowled close to the door to try and overhear the conversation. It was obviously one of the okama, trying a little too hard to chat in a falsetto. He missed the first part, but he could hear Zoro clearly right outside. “No, I can take the message. What do you want?”

“Miss Caroline wanted to let Mr. Sanji know that there’s been a slight change in plans,” the crossdresser said. “The winds are too strong for the supply ship to land tomorrow, they have to sail into a better position or wait for the wind to change.”

“Ah.” Zoro sounded completely unfazed. “I thought it seemed a little windy, today.”

“Yes, you see? There’s no guarantee they’ll be able to land the following day, but they will try. We got the call just an hour or two ago. So the banquet will have to be put off until the supplies are here. You understand, yes?”

“Eh, of course I do. I don’t know how happy he’ll be to hear that, though.”

“There’s really nothing we can do about it, except wait.”

“Yeah, I know. All right, I’ll tell him.”

“Are you helping with the banquet too, Mr. Swordsman?”

Sanji had to hold back a laugh at Zoro’s reaction to that question. He ended the conversation and dismissed the visitor as quickly as he could after that, by which time Sanji was back in the kitchen setting things out on the prep counter. He barely glanced up when the door opened, though he did check to make sure that no one else was coming in with his crewmate. “Trouble,” Zoro reported.

“So I heard,” Sanji responded placidly. “I caught the gist of it. Strong winds are keeping the supply ship offshore another day at least, eh?”

“That’s it.” Zoro crossed to him and leaned his hands on the other side of the counter. “That means we’re stuck another day, maybe more.”

“Shit.” Sanji huffed bitterly. “And here I was thinking the wind was good for drying clothes.”

“How’s our food supply?”

“Oh...fine.” The cook tossed his head to indicate the fridge in the corner. “I would have had to overdo it tonight to finish off all the perishables. Now I’ll just go easy, I can make it stretch another two days or so.” He stuck his hands into the pockets of the hooded jacket and slumped a bit. “Damn. I want off this island, we’re wasting time just sitting around here waiting on a ship.”

“Cool your heels. There’s nothing we can do, unless you can somehow control the weather.” Zoro cocked a look at him that said he doubted that very much.

Sanji’s head drooped. “I wish Nami were here. She could tell us when the weather’s going to change. Maybe if she were here I wouldn’t be in such a hurry to leave,” he whined.

Zoro looked away as well. He was already resigned to the fact that he would never surpass Nami in the cook’s mind, but it still stung to hear. “Yeah, well, she’s not,” he said gruffly. “We’ll have to wait this one out.”

Growling, Sanji tipped his head up and back. “This damn place is driving me insane! I don’t know how much more of it I can take!” He clawed his hands through his hair, but after a sigh, he was better, quieter. “At least we’re not in mortal peril,” he begrudgingly admitted. “It’d be even worse if we spent every day fighting for our lives.”

“Speak for yourself,” Zoro muttered. “I could use someone to fight. Sitting around here is going to make me soft.”

Sanji waved a hand dismissively at him. “It’s only a few days, you won’t lose your edge in that time,” he scoffed. “There’ll be enough fights ahead of us. Besides, you’re still healing up.”

“I’m a hell of a lot better than I was,” Zoro came back. “If we got attacked right here and now, I’d handle it just fine.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Thinking of attack potential reminded Sanji of something else. “Funny, we found the bounty posters in Elizabeth’s house, so they know what we’re worth,” he mused. “But they don’t seem inclined to try to apprehend us.”

“Maybe they’re just that weak.” The thought of his bounty made Zoro smirk a little bit. “Combined, we’re worth almost 200 million. If they’ve got nobody on this island who can go up against 200 million beli’s worth of pirate, of course they’re not gonna attack.”

“Yeah, that’s probably it.” Despite things on Sabaody being what they were, the crew was never really particularly worried about bounty hunters. At least a remote island like this with little to no way of leaving was not likely to have any lurking about the populace. Sanji turned and went back to excavating the pantry. “Might as well keep working, here. Even if it’s a day later, we’re still getting out of here.”

Zoro retreated to the bedroom to finish packing, and then went outside for a while. The winds were definitely stronger, and the normally azure sky was partly covered with low, fast-moving clouds. It was undoubtedly a boon for the laundry, but ships couldn’t land at the quay because of it. Zoro was finally feeling well enough to resume his routine exercise, as much as he could without his weights and everything else back on the _Sunny_. At the very least, he could do several sets of pushups and sit-ups, and use the terrain to his advantage. There was a tree just behind the house with a branch low enough to do chin-ups, and the waves crashing on shore were much bigger than usual, providing the perfect resistance to test his stamina. He stood knee-deep in the water and braced himself, letting the ocean beat against him and try to break him while he focused his concentration and sought an inner calm. When he had had enough, Zoro waded back onto the beach to find Sanji standing above him on the embankment, a towel over his shoulder and another cigarette in his mouth. Zoro paused just below him, dripping water, and looked up curiously. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to finish this smoke.” Sanji took the cigarette, tapped off the ashes, and ground it out against his shoe again. He then tossed the towel down to his comrade. “You can’t even do swimming right, can you?”

“I wasn’t trying to swim.” Zoro decided not to explain it, either, merely toweling himself off as best he could and then picking up his shirt, boots, and swords before trudging up the embankment. Sanji’s attention was on the waves, his gaze distant, when Zoro came alongside him. “Oi,” he said gently. “Come on, I’m cold.”

“Mm?” Sanji snapped himself alert and turned to follow. “That’s your own damn fault, you know. Standing in the water on a day like this...dumbass.”

“At least now I don’t need a bath.” Zoro cast him a smirk, and got a slight chuckle in return.

Because of the unexpected delay, they put off discussing their actual plan of attack until tomorrow. By dusk all the laundry was dry and packed in the duffel, dinner was made and polished off, and the little house quiet once again. The wind did not let up at all, the rafters creaked and windows rattled with it throughout the evening. Zoro heaved himself into the lone comfortable chair once the dishes were good and done, and was surprised a moment later with a cup of hot tea. He glanced up curiously; Sanji stood just behind the chair, carrying another cup for himself. “We’re out of booze,” he conceded, “this is the best I can do.”

“It’s fine.” Zoro cradled the cup in his hands, giving it a bit to cool. Sanji continued past him and went to peer out the window at the onrushing night. “Sounds almost like a storm out there,” the swordsman noted. “No wonder ships can’t land.”

“Hopefully that means we’ll be able to tell when it dies down,” Sanji said thoughtfully before taking a sip of his tea. A long silence passed between them, while both nursed their tea, but then the cook spoke again in a serious tone. “...do you think they’re all right?”

Zoro mulled it over, gazing absently at the reflection of light on the liquid in his cup. “They’re safe,” he declared eventually.

Sanji turned toward him, tilting his head curiously. “You’re so sure of that.”

“Yeah.” He lifted his head and regarded the blond cook standing near the window, looking somehow younger and rougher in the casual clothes. “I just have this feeling.”

Sanji seemed to accept that – he didn’t even make a snide remark about esoteric senses. He paced slowly across the room, his attention turned inward. Without knowing whether Kuma had gotten to all of them, it was difficult to say whether anyone could be sure that the crew was safe, or even where they were. But at the very least, being sent off the archipelago meant they were not in the hands of the Marines – or dead. Considering how Zoro came out of his last bout with the warlord, being so far from the crew and the ship was almost a blessing. “We should have asked for a newspaper,” he realized, thinking of the wanted posters they had found in Elizabeth’s desk. “The press would brag about the capture of anyone with a bounty.”

“Hm.” Zoro pondered it and liked it. Bad news would be hard to take so far from the others, but it was a risk worth taking for the chance that there was only good news to be had. He glanced at the man now standing at his right hand. “Maybe I’ll go sniffing around the village tomorrow and see if I can find one.”

With the cup raised to his lips, Sanji smirked and sniffed a small chuckle. “The minute I let you out of my sight, you’re going to get lost.” He settled a hand on Zoro’s shoulder, refraining from squeezing it – he knew it was still bandaged underneath that shirt. He stood facing the kitchen, completely opposite from Zoro, dutifully paying more attention to his tea than his touch.

“Oi...” Zoro completely noticed, and did not call attention to it. “Again with the getting lost. I’m not like that. Besides, the paths are paved, I can find them just fine.”

“And keep wandering around the island in circles on them.” The hand moved a bit, letting knuckles brush against Zoro’s neck and earlobe. “It was my suggestion, I’ll do it. I’ve already proven I can outrun those nutjobs if it comes to it.”

Zoro couldn’t take it any longer, the closeness was too much of a temptation. He reached up and trapped that hand, pulling it to his lips and pressing them gently against the palm. Sanji stood there watching, his expression difficult to read. As dark eyes lifted to gauge his reaction, he simply asked, “Why me?”

“I dunno...” Zoro let go of him, shifting away against the arm of the chair. “You piss me off so much, but...”

“You like a guy who pisses you off.” Sanji rested his stray hand on the back of the chair. “Masochist.”

“Asshole.” Zoro’s cup was empty, a perfectly good excuse for him to push himself out of the chair and ramble past the cook into the kitchen. He was aware of that keen gaze following him. “I don’t really have a reason for it,” he said over his shoulder as he actually took the time to wash the teacup. “Do you need one?”

“You’re only helping prove my theory that it’s the island’s fault.” Sanji wandered up behind him, and set his cup on the counter. Without needing to be asked, Zoro washed that one as well. A tangle of conflicting emotions rose in Sanji’s chest at that gesture, and a moment later he followed their pull – he leaned against the swordsman’s back. It wasn’t an embrace, but he did let his lips and chin come to rest on the back of Zoro’s neck. “It really has been a long damn time,” he murmured.

“How long?” Zoro wondered as he finished up. “Whiskey Peak?”

Sanji gave a negative grunt. “I passed out before I could get back to anyone’s room,” he grumbled. “I haven’t been in a woman’s bed since I left the restaurant.”

“No shit...” Zoro had to actually turn and look at him, hearing that, even though it dislodged Sanji from his comfortable leaning. “Seriously? I would have thought you would have at least groped a few dancing girls in Alubarna or something.”

“No, not with Vivi and Nami around!” At least that brought a happy memory to mind, of the glimpse in the bath that signified the closest Sanji had ever come to being with Nami. So close, and yet so far away. His body only stirred a little bit at the memory, though. “Don’t be crass, moss-head. Flirtations are totally different from actually sleeping with someone.”

“Heh. So that’s your story.” Zoro turned back around, playing aloof. “I knew you were all talk. Things just aren’t the same out here on the Grand Line, eh?”

Sanji didn’t know why he couldn’t resist touching his comrade tonight, he just wanted to. It hurt less to give in to the magnetic pull rather than reject it. He threw himself against Zoro’s back, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his chin on Zoro’s good shoulder. “This doesn’t mean anything,” he said firmly. “I’m not into men. This is just...convenience.”

“Fine.” It was the nearest thing to an agreement Zoro could live with. “You need to use me, is that it? So be it.” His arms covered Sanji’s, acknowledging the embrace and keeping him trapped there for as long as neither wanted to move. They stood for a while just like that, the kitchen falling silent around them but for the lingering creak of the rafters above straining in the wind. There was no kissing, or teasing, just holding for the longest time. At last, Zoro raised an arm and reached back to curl his fingers into Sanji’s hair. “Come on,” he said quietly. “I’ll go easy on you, you have my word.”

Sanji didn’t move, not even to recoil. He was comfortable with his head bowed over Zoro’s shoulder, except for when one of the earrings would bat his nose. “I don’t know if I can,” he mumbled into the swordsman’s shirt collar.

“Not to be cliché, but you really don’t know until you try it,” Zoro said dryly. “Who knows, maybe you’ll pick up some tips for the next girl to come your way.”

“From you? Not likely.” Sanji squeezed him a little tighter around the middle; so long as they stood there by the sink, he was safe. “What are you in such a rush for, anyway? Are you that horny?”

“Eh...” Zoro tilted his head to regard the face hanging over his left shoulder. “...it’s not like there’s anything else to do, for now. Besides.” He twisted enough to be able to brush his lips across the other’s jaw. “We’re having a moment here, aren’t we?”

“A moment.” If he were truly honest with himself, Sanji did not at all dislike the attention. Or the warmth, the touches, the kisses. That a swordsman with an iron will who could cut steel and stone was actually so gentle and affectionate, deep down, surprised him in a good way. He wouldn’t mistake it for love, but it was enough of a connection that his further protests came off weak. It wouldn’t be meaningless, because they were friends…

“Oi.” Zoro’s low voice broke him out of his reverie, as he extracted himself from the arms around him and edged away from the sink. “Don’t think too hard about it. If you don’t want to, fine. Just stop leading me on, then.”

Sanji remained there looking away, but before Zoro could leave him, his hand came up and caught the swordsman by the arm. “No promises,” he murmured. “But I’ll crawl into bed, and see what happens.”

Zoro managed a wry grin. “Lucky I’m not tired, then.” He pulled his arm free and turned away, heading down the hall. Sanji remained long enough to douse the lamps and then quietly plodded to the bedroom. There was a war going on in his head, but the shrill voice of protest was becoming harder to hear – the taste yesterday hadn’t scared him off at all. He simply wanted to get laid, and right now it was better to have Zoro than anyone else on the island. He could make plenty of excuses to himself – it was the island, really...maybe if he had a good night’s romp it would get it out of his system...this sort of thing really did happen among pirates sometimes.... Zoro’s advice not to think too hard about it seemed the best yet, Sanji decided as he slipped out of his shoes, emptied his pockets, and peeled off the hooded jacket. His comrade was actually in the bathroom at the moment, giving him time to just sit on the bed and decompress. Denial was tiring; it took a lot of effort to continue to refuse the idea, to maintain his previous position and pretend the brief encounter yesterday didn’t happen or didn’t change anything. Such exercises were mentally exhausting, it was much nicer to just sit and not think about it. Zoro blundered into the room, then, scratching the back of his neck. “Whatever port we end up in, I hope it has an inn with a real bath. Even _Merry_ was more sophisticated than this shack.”

“I didn’t know you needed another bath already,” Sanji snorted, glancing over his shoulder.

“Well, we’re stuck here a whole extra day,” Zoro sighed, tossing up his hand, “might as well.” He kicked off his boots and then eased onto the bed, crawling up behind his companion and shifting to sit with him, partly wrapped around him. “There’s no knowing how many days we’ll be at sea on a cargo ship with the other unwashed sailors, after tomorrow.”

Sanji sniffed a bit in humor, finding himself content to lean back against the swordsman’s muscular bulk. “We’ve really been spoiled by our ships. Who else is so lucky to have fine facilities come standard aboard their pirate ships?”

Zoro shrugged, jostling the other. “ _Merry_ was built by a guy who served some kind of rich noble, in the first place. I bet she was supposed to be a pleasure-cruise kind of caravel. And then Franky built _Sunny_ to meet our needs...”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Talking about these inane things was comfortable, though, so Sanji didn’t make any attempt to sidetrack the conversation. “My point still stands. Even with the hard times now and then, we’re a spoiled bunch of pirates.” He turned his head so Zoro could see his uncovered eye. “Remember what Krieg’s galleon looked like when he came to the restaurant?”

“Psh,” Zoro scoffed. “He wasn’t ready for the Grand Line. If he got so damned upset about losing almost fifty ships in less than a week and came slinking out to East Blue with his tail between his legs, it’s only obvious. His wealth was more important to him than risking everything in the Grand Line.”

Sanji felt the same smug sort of satisfaction that he could hear in Zoro’s voice. Being prepared to sail that dangerous sea had nothing to do with supplies, crews, or the size of one’s ship. Luffy and his crew were proof of it – and perhaps that was why Zoro had spoken so confidently earlier, knowing that the others were safe. “It’s not like we can talk,” he mused, gently rapping his knuckles against the center of Zoro’s chest. “We put _Merry_ through hell, all for the sake of Luffy’s adventures.”

“Yeah, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Zoro edged closer, starting to smirk. “I don’t regret a single step of the journey.”

“I never said I did, either.” Sanji turned to meet him, lowering his gaze to find that the swordsman’s lips were very close to his. He breathed a concluding, “Life is too short for regrets,” just before Zoro lunged to kiss him, hastily and a bit sloppily. Sanji pushed him back, but without much force. “Oi...where did you learn to kiss, anyway?”

Zoro blinked at him, highly confused. “The same way everybody does, dumbass – you learn by doing.” He hesitated, then, based on the look he was getting. “...right?”

Sanji managed to resist rolling his eyes. “You could really use some pointers. You’ve never kissed a petite, shy girl, have you?”

“Are you comparing yourself to a petite, shy girl?” Zoro teased, accepting the hard elbow in the gut he got in retaliation. “So what if I haven’t? I’ve never had any complaints.”

“You wouldn’t, if you make a habit of kissing other clumsy oafs.” Sanji captured a handful of the other’s shirt with the flick of a wrist and pulled him closer. “If you’re so eager to get somewhere with me, you’re going to learn some finer points first,” he warned. “It’s going to be good for me, too, and not just you.”

Zoro’s eyes lowered, and the smirk only intensified on his lips. “You didn’t seem to have a problem with it yesterday.”

“Situations differ.” Sanji left it at that, not wanting to elucidate the fact that yesterday they were simply pawing each other in wild abandon, and right now the way they sat together implied that they were going to take it more slowly...and in essence, with more feeling and less raw lust. He doubted Zoro would grasp the explanation anyway, without being shown an example. He let go of the shirt and used a fingertip under the chin to align his comrade’s face to his. “You got your chance; now it’s my turn.”

Zoro was actually rather taken with the closeness and the low purr of his voice. His gaze kept traveling to the lips so close to his own. “Then stop teasing and get on with it,” he dared.

A smirk dashed across Sanji’s face. “Oh,” he said, “I haven’t even _begun_ to tease.” But he didn’t go into further details, bending his head and leaning in. “I’m in charge, so pay attention. Don’t try to do anything, just follow my lead.”

“So just sit here with my mouth hanging open,” Zoro snorted.

“Not quite.” Sanji pressed with the same fingertip under the other’s chin until his mouth was nearly closed, his lips barely parted. Only then did he bestow his kiss, the pressure gentle and unhurried. He caressed Zoro’s lower lip with his, turning it into a long series of small but thorough kisses, wet and warm but not too firm. Every time Zoro tried to push harder, Sanji would back away, making him wait and sit still before returning where he left off. He worked those lips at his own pace, soft and restrained, skillfully building up to a point where he could use his lips to part Zoro’s just a bit more and trace his tongue along the opening. Of course, that made Zoro try to push for more again, but Sanji was ready for it and drew back. “I told you not to do anything,” he warned in a low murmur.

Zoro growled in frustration. “You’re being so damn slow about it.”

“Of course I am. That’s the way I want it.” Sanji shifted a bit, wrapping one slender leg around his companion’s waist so he could get closer and comfortable. “What’s it going to hurt letting me have my way for a few minutes?”

Really, the swordsman had no complaints about the technique, just the speed at which it was progressing, so he shrugged and relented. As a reward, Sanji kissed him hard the way he wanted before going back to his own pace. Zoro let him do as he liked, opening his mouth as much as directed and relaxing to let the cook’s tongue explore at will. All it took was waiting, and he eventually got exactly what he wanted in turn. Sanji began to ramp up the pace, probing deep with his tongue and stirring Zoro into just the right counter-attack, though whenever he backed off, Zoro let him. It trailed off the way it began with a number of slow, tasting, testing kisses, not at all timid but not sloppy either. The groan that slipped out on Zoro’s breath spoke volumes; as they finally parted and opened eyes at each other, the swordsman had to glance down at his lap. “Shit,” he breathed. “That’s...”

“Ready to admit I’m just that good?” Sanji said smugly, tugging at Zoro’s shirt. He wasn’t done yet, diving in for another round with a little more force this time. Zoro snagged him around the waist with both arms and pulled him in, figuring he got the hang of the lesson and wanting to show Sanji just how well he could pick up these tips. The cook’s other leg snaked over his other hip, a sign that he was committed to this activity and not about to try to escape. Sitting thus, they were matched in height and could comfortably stay there and make out for as long as they could keep up with each other. Of course, as Zoro had already noted, he was already quite aroused, to the point that trying to restrain himself and employ some of Sanji’s more subtle and patient techniques was nearly impossible. He gave in rather quickly and fell back on old habits; luckily, Sanji was in the mood for it now, having gotten what he wanted and eager to push it even further. His hands came up around Zoro’s face to hold him in place to be thoroughly kissed breathless, and once they reached that point, he moved on to cheeks, jaw, earlobe, and neck. Zoro growled happily and buried his face in the junction of neck and shoulder, letting his lips rest against warm skin. Once more they trailed off and just leaned against each other, panting and heated but in need of a break. Zoro was clearly eager to progress, though he minded his promise and took it slow, worming his hands up under Sanji’s t-shirt and gently playing his fingertips along the slender man’s back and flanks. Sanji responded with a few light kisses that worked from the swordsman’s earlobe back toward his lips, which were then caressed slowly with his own. A tongue poked out, seeking a taste, so Sanji caressed that as well, drawing his companion into something a little deeper. His hand slid up from a shoulder across the back of Zoro’s neck and into his hair, at which point the hands on him suddenly raced upward, tugging the shirt with them and pulling him flush against the other’s body. Sanji’s legs wrapped around him, clinging tightly. He wasn’t thinking too far ahead, concentrated solely on the moment and making it last until both were good and satisfied. But the tangle of bodies made it obvious that both were going to need more soon enough – Zoro was hard enough to be felt through his trousers, and even Sanji was starting to stir a bit. The big, rough hands exploring the shape of his ribcage helped, he felt appreciated in all new ways. They continued in that manner for a bit until the roaming hands demanded that the shirt come off. Sanji broke off, lips wet and face flushed, and gave a short sigh before complying, batting away any assistance and peeling off the thin t-shirt himself. “You’re always so impatient,” he griped as he tossed the offending garment onto the floor.

“What ‘always?’” Zoro retorted. “I’m not impatient, your shirt was just in the way.” His hands slid down Sanji’s back as his eyes swept up and down the cook’s lean torso, taking it in. The perspective changed when in such a close circumstance, he had found a reason to appreciate the tough muscle and distinct lack of fat anywhere on Sanji’s body. Zoro’s hands came to rest in the small of his back, and for a moment he sat ogling, grinning lazily.

Sanji’s lips twisted in a suspicious frown. “Are you just going to sit there and stare all night?”

“Nope.” Zoro leaned in and bent his head, immediately aiming to kiss his comrade’s collarbone and down to his chest. It was a somewhat awkward position, though, given their near-identical heights, so Sanji unfolded his legs and shifted around so he could climb up a little into Zoro’s lap. The movement gave him a first-hand feel of just how hard the swordsman had already gotten just from the foreplay, but he refused to be startled for long and settled down astride his thighs, putting himself half a head taller than Zoro for the time being. The look of brazen lust in Zoro’s dark eyes became tempered with another, altogether different emotion, and when he leaned in this time, his kisses were far more gentle and reverent than before. He inched his lips slowly across Sanji’s chest from one side to the other, nuzzling his sternum and nibbling a taste of smooth, pale skin. Sanji was content to sit there and enjoy it, one arm draped lazily over Zoro’s shoulders. There was nothing he didn’t like about it, Zoro seemed to have learned just enough in order to give him what he wanted. Women liked to touch him but to kiss him there? They were often too shy (well, there was that one, but Sanji was sure she was a pro, so he didn’t count it) or inexperienced. He closed his eyes and breathed a moan into Zoro’s hair when a thumb rubbed across his nipple, accompanying the slow trail of wet lips along the angles and planes of his muscles. That was enough of a sign; Zoro changed tactics abruptly, tilting the slender body of the cook back in his arms so he could ply that nipple with his tongue instead. Sanji swallowed a startled yelp and fought back, pushing himself up on his knees in order to put his chest in perfect position to be treated this way. He raked his fingers through Zoro’s short hair, clingingly tightly for as long as he was going to be licking and kissing like that. It stopped far too soon for his liking, but only so Zoro could tilt his head up and give him a cool, sly smirk.

“What’s that look for?” the cook wondered as he knelt there in the superior position.

“You like what I’m doing?” the swordsman asked by way of response.

“What do you _think?_ ” Sanji actually gave him an aloof sort of smile.

“Well...” Zoro’s gaze lowered, and he dared to cup a hand around his comrade’s ass. “There is one way to know for sure.”

“Nuh-uh.” Sanji slid back down to a seat, though he was still higher than Zoro’s eye-line there. “You’d better lose some clothes, first. We’re going to even this out.”

“So even this is a competition.” Zoro shook his head, but obeyed. Now that he didn’t have a face-full of Sanji’s body to attend do, he quickly yanked off his shirt and haramaki and tossed them in the growing pile on the floor. For a moment Sanji’s hands gently examined the partial wrapping of bandages over his chest and shoulder, and then draped around him in such a way as to not put pressure on the still-healing wounds. Zoro pulled him up again, and he came along without hesitation. 

The kissing resumed, but not for long, because Sanji began to press forward with his weight in an attempt to push his comrade down onto the bed. Zoro gave in to it, wanting to see what it would lead to. To his surprise and delight, Sanji sat astride his hips and leaned over him, his hands on the bedding, in order to bend his head and kiss him thoroughly. The swordsman wrapped his arms around him, drawing him in, and pretty soon they were tangled in another ferocious wrestling match of tongues and lips, their bodies pressed together skin-to-skin and arms wrapped completely around each other. They had been at this so long, Zoro could no longer taste the lingering tang of cigarettes on Sanji’s breath. He could feel the hardness brushing against his abdomen as Sanji settled against him – they were on equal ground, now – and he couldn’t help but smile into the kiss to know that once again, he had managed to arouse the ladies’-man who swore he didn’t like men.

With Zoro reclined beneath him, Sanji could take the upper hand and explore a bit himself, though he didn’t go far. He paid the most attention to Zoro’s neck and upper chest, what parts were exposed now without bandages. The swordsman was clearly all thick muscle, and the scent of his skin still bore a faint metallic trace, as if he were steel himself. Sanji lavished his throat and collarbone with wet kisses, deliberately tasting him, and let his hands roam a little lower to see what he liked, letting the sighs and groans indicate what worked best. He came back up, though, nuzzling up under Zoro’s earlobe and managing to avoid the earrings. His unshaven chin scraped along softer, sensitive skin along Zoro’s neck and throat, making him throw his head back with a far less subtle moan. Pleased with himself, Sanji dared to roll his hips against his partner’s, verifying in one movement that both of them were hard and wanting. Zoro swore under his breath, opening his eyes to gaze up at the cook sprawled on top of him. “Do it,” he breathed, smoothing his hands down Sanji’s back.

Sanji lay with his arms stretched out over Zoro’s head, his elbows resting on the bedding; it essentially framed Zoro’s face and head for him to ravage at will. “Mm?” he grunted in query, lifting his head to meet his gaze.

“I said I’d go easy on you...” Zoro smiled, but it wasn’t the teasing smirk for once. “What’s easier than letting you take the lead?”

Sanji’s visible eye narrowed. “You want me to...”

“Yeah, why not? I’ve had it before, I know I like it.”

For a moment, Sanji almost went along with it. But then he got to thinking, and the repeated assurance of “going easy” on him struck him just-so – he bristled, his lips twisting into a scowl. “Don’t make me out to be some kind of wimp,” he complained. “I’m not so soft, and I’m not scared of you.”

Zoro’s eyebrows went up, genuinely confused. “Huh?”

“You don’t have to go _easy_ on me.” Sanji drew his hands closer and pushed himself up on them, staring down at Zoro with a different determination. “I’m not weak. I can take it.”

“You’re sure?”

“Damn right I am.”

Though his offer had been sincere, Zoro liked how this was turning out. The slyness crept back into his grin. “All right, if you insist.”

“It better be good,” Sanji warned, deliberately squirming around on top of him in order to press their hidden erections against each other.

There was just enough width left to the bed for Zoro to grab him around the chest and roll him over onto his back, reversing their positions. For a bit there he really did want Sanji to fuck him, but this was good, too. “Just promise me you’ll scream like you did yesterday,” he murmured darkly, bending his head to trace his lips up Sanji’s chin and cheek.

“I only scream if it’s good,” Sanji shot back, resting his arms against Zoro’s shoulders. The mouth descending on his neck was definitely good, though, eliciting a few soft moans from him in no time at all. He could even feel the scrape of teeth, though it was subtle, and gave a stronger gasp at that. He rested a hand on the back of Zoro’s neck and guided him toward neglected spots, breathing a bit more heavily at the result. Before too long, however, Zoro pushed himself up and sat back to unbutton his pants, giving Sanji all the room he needed to do the same. Each took care of his own, and Sanji had to sit up to wrestle the rest of his clothes off and dump them aside. That gave him the chance to get more comfortable as well, shifting to the center of the bed. He was over his hesitations, he needed this and wanted it. Zoro prowled back up to him before he could start thinking too hard about it again, naked but for the bandages across his chest and the bandanna on his left arm, which at that very moment he reached to untie and set aside on the small table huddled next to the bed. Sanji raised an eyebrow at that. “Oh, now we’re really getting serious,” he murmured, teasing in his droll, deadpan way.

“Yeah, so what?” Zoro pressed toward him, getting him to sit back against the headboard. The kiss he offered was lazy and deep, a comfortable reassurance before they continued. Sanji’s tongue stroked his eagerly, enticing him to keep it up for a bit. Hands began to roam, kneading muscles and caressing warm skin. Sanji only flinched briefly, but he was determined to live up to his boast – he was not going to be made out to be some kind of coward or weakling. Zoro must have sensed him tensing up, because he broke the kiss and murmured against his cheek, “C’mon. Touch me. Don’t be _shy_...”

“I’m _not_ shy...” Still, it took a moment to work up the will to close his hand around Zoro’s cock. He didn’t look, but he could definitely feel his way there, down from the abs he had been silently inspecting with his fingertips. Zoro purred in response, leaning back a little to give them both room. Sanji didn’t think he would explore for long, but it was easy to fall into a rhythm, to stroke him as if stroking himself. Though, he didn’t know whether to be impressed with or jealous of the girth. Thinking of it as competition was irritating, but thinking of it as going to be inside him shortly actually turned him on even more. Sanji’s cheeks and neck flushed red and hot at that. _What is wrong with me?_ he wondered. It wasn’t right for him to actually want it. He’d never wanted it before. Yet there he was, reclined against the headboard with Zoro half on top of him, curling his palm around the head of the swordsman’s erect shaft and rubbing in just such a way as to leave him panting for more.

Zoro pushed himself up and reached across to the table again, this time taking something that had been half-hidden under the bandanna. “Ready?” he breathed, sliding out of Sanji’s grasp and looming over him, eyes dark. “’Cause I am.”

Sanji’s eye went to the bottle in his hand. “What’ve you got there?”

“Eh...some kind of bath oil. It was the only thing I could find in the house.” Zoro leered brashly. “I assume you don’t want it to hurt.”

“Well no...” He hadn’t really thought about the logistics, it was a good thing one of them did. Still, Sanji couldn’t help but curl up a little where he sat, drawing his long legs closer.

Zoro noticed him shrinking back and slapped one of his thighs in reprimand. “No backing out on it now. Come on…you trust me, don’t you?”

“I’m really starting to wonder.” Sanji kept his eyes above his comrade’s waistline, but he did begin to stretch his legs back out on either side of Zoro’s. “How do you...I mean, should I...”

“You’re fine where you are. Although...” Zoro inched back and then grabbed him by the hips, pulling him closer so he was lying much more prone and had the benefit of pillows. The rough handling made Sanji have to stifle a moan – he couldn’t say he wanted to be treated this way, dominated even, but he did. Zoro patted his legs to tell him they were in a good position for now and uncapped the bath oil, pouring a little into one hand. He slicked up his fingers and went straight to work without any kind of pause, though he kept his eyes on Sanji’s face. He wasn’t rude about it, he worked one finger in to distribute the oil and didn’t penetrate too deeply, but getting right to it with no warning made Sanji tense up all over again. It was a foreign feeling, even if it didn’t hurt – it was just weird. It took getting used to, that was for sure, but Zoro was giving him a chance to do that by making sure there was enough oil. The angle of his hand allowed his thumb to brush the soft spot just above the opening, which in Sanji’s estimation felt pretty nice. He still wasn’t completely used to the intrusion when the fingers withdrew and Zoro poured out more oil to slick himself up in a shameless display. Sanji watched every movement, the way the lamp-light gleamed on the contours of his muscles moving under tanned skin, the way it glistened on his oiled cock poised and ready, and wanted it. He told himself that if he backed out now, he would regret it – he wanted to know what it was like, and here was his chance. His hand crept down across his own abdomen to his erection and stroked lightly, an involuntary reaction to witnessing something erotic. The swordsman noticed, and grinned. “I guess that means you’re ready, too.”

“Just do it,” Sanji growled. “Enough talking.”

Bending lower, Zoro hooked one arm under Sanji’s leg and pushed him open wider, and then nudged himself closer yet. His erection came to rest alongside Sanji’s, and for a moment he rubbed, teasing, until the cook gasped out loud. At that, Zoro repositioned and pressed himself inside, once again without hesitation, though his forward movement was deliberately slow.

Sanji gritted his teeth; despite the wealthy distribution of bath oil, the sudden push hurt more than expected. There was an initial flash of pain, but it vanished just as quickly, dulled into an odd sense of discomfort. He must have made just the right face in response, because Zoro stopped, or at least slowed down even more. “Shit,” Sanji hissed. “You couldn’t have warned me first?”

“You had plenty of warning,” Zoro murmured. “What’s the matter, am I too much for you?”

“Hardly,” Sanji panted. “Just slow down a bit, would you?”

“All right, all right.” Zoro froze in place where he was, letting his weight settle on the one hand pressed into the bed near his comrade’s hip. He might have forgotten what it could be like the first time for someone, but he was patient enough to listen to demands. This was supposed to be good, so if the cook was grimacing like that, he needed to make some adjustments. While waiting for the go-ahead to continue, he bent his head and kissed the inside of the knee he had resting across his biceps, the only part of Sanji he could reach easily with his lips. Beneath him, Sanji took a breath and let it out slowly, finally relaxing himself enough to go on, though he watched Zoro’s face warily. Zoro took it as a sign and pulled out a fraction before pushing deeper in, seating himself as fully as he dared. It made Sanji gasp all over again, his fists wadding up the bedsheets for lack of anything else to grab onto. The pause this time was much shorter, and then Zoro began to move – slowly, by request, but deliberately, his face suddenly flushing red at the sensation of being squeezed tight and stroked hard. He would have made some kind of comment about the tightness, but he was focused on his pace and the reaction of his partner, and really didn’t feel like getting kicked across the room mid-coitus for pointing out Sanji’s near-virginity. After a few good long, slow thrusts it became a little easier, so Zoro pushed forward, bending that knee back even more and sliding his hand up further on the bed to change the angle.

At first, Sanji only noticed the raw burn and the odd feeling of fullness, but when he caught Zoro blushing, he discovered that the burn faded and there was no pain at all. It was still weird, but not unpleasant. He groped and found Zoro’s wrist at the same time as that hand moved closer to him, and so gripped the swordsman’s forearm to ground himself. The new angle made that muscled body flex and stretch in fine ways, and the three earrings began to sway with the rhythm Zoro was falling into. Sanji beheld him for a moment and then closed his eyes, his mouth falling open with noisier gasps as the sensation changed from strange to pleasurable. Sensitive nerves were being stimulated for the first time, and those little flashes of pleasure were finally traveling to his brain to make him sigh and moan. Zoro’s hand on his leg slid toward his toes and moved it so that Sanji’s calf rested on his shoulder, improving the way they fit together and moved against each other. He was able to plunge deeper, and so he did, once, before resuming his even pace. That got a hiss out of Sanji, but no complaint. This was the part any man was well familiar with, the long minutes of patient thrusting, the only difference now being that Sanji found his body growing more comfortable with the intrusion, responding to it, as if it were meant to be that way all along. It felt good, though not quite amazing. He lifted his gaze to find Zoro almost in a trance, his eyes half-closed and his body committed to the steady rhythm of their bodies melding together. At that moment, though, the swordsman looked up as well, and a hazy smile crossed his lips as he slowed almost to a full stop. One or two long, slow thrusts and he came to a rest, his shoulders bearing down on the leg trapped between them and bending it to Sanji’s chest. He was close enough to kiss, but only glanced a sort of soft nip across the other man’s unshaven chin. No words passed between them, just a heavy look as their eyes briefly met. Sanji let go of his comrade’s arm and brushed his hand across his face, the tips of his fingers raking through short, green hair above his ear. Zoro’s dark eyes fluttered closed, and he breathed a content sigh at the touch. He drew back, letting Sanji relax, and shifted to sit on his knees. Without pulling out, he tugged the other’s hips closer yet and resumed thrusting, much slower and shorter, his hands free now to hold that leg over his shoulder and reach to stroke Sanji’s neglected erection.

The change in tactics had an immediate effect. Sanji gulped and gave a groan as something inside him suddenly tickled and teased. Add to that the hand on him, and he finally understood why anyone would willingly participate in this kind of sex. His other leg curled around Zoro’s hip and squeezed, finding just enough leverage to pull himself into each thrust. He braced one hand on the knee just under him, and the other closed on Zoro’s wrist, groping and kneading in encouragement. The swordsman chuckled under his breath, a deep noise rumbling in his chest, but he said nothing. He didn’t feel like interrupting the session with idle dirty talk – some other time, maybe. They both knew that Sanji was essentially putty in his hands, there was no point in calling attention to it. Before too long those light gasps became soft cries, and Zoro felt a trace of fluid on his fingertips where they played over the tip of the other’s shaft. He wasn’t done yet, so he stopped once more and just closed that hand around the other shaft, silently appreciating the feel of velvety hot skin and the above-average length. Like the two men themselves, they were nearly the same size, though Zoro was thicker and Sanji leaner and longer. As Sanji caught his breath, Zoro pulled most of the way out and let the leg drop off his shoulder before leaning in quite close and nibbling his lips up the center of his companion’s chest. “So,” he murmured quietly in that same, deep rumble, “not so bad now, is it?”

Sanji groaned again. “Come on, I’m so close,” he breathed in return. “What’d you stop for?”

“Changing things up a little.” Zoro rolled his hips, pushing himself back inside a fraction, and smirked at the gasping reaction. He moved so that he was almost completely over Sanji now, stretching himself out and using his hips to tilt Sanji’s up to meet him. His husky whisper seemed loud in the otherwise quiet room. “Wrap your legs around me, higher up.”

Sanji did so without question, crossing his ankles behind his partner’s back. It was a rather submissive position, if one chose to look at it that way, but when the powerful body covering him began to move, he forgot to care. Zoro’s weight was on his elbows and knees, giving him the balance to thrust hard and deep and still brush that spot inside that felt so damn good. Sanji curled his arms around those broad shoulders and dug his fingers into short hair, breathing hard and occasionally hissing or moaning at a particularly good thrust. Zoro barely vocalized, only a few grunts here and there, but his hips maintained a steady motion and his whole body rippled along with it. The earrings jingled as they swung wildly against each other, and his chest and neck glistened with sweat. Between panting breaths, Sanji began to curse softly, and then a little more loudly at the first spark of what was soon to come teasing deep in his belly. “Harder!” he suddenly gasped out, his fingers tugging roughly at Zoro’s hair.

The swordsman braced himself and did as requested, shortening the thrust but pushing in harder, deeper, with each one. He could feel the heels of Sanji’s feet digging into his back as he braced himself, almost forcing himself up onto his comrade’s cock with little thrusts of his own. It was such a delicious feeling, Zoro let go of any restraint and bore down on him, pounding away with wild abandon. Sanji swore savagely and clenched his fingers into the smooth skin and hard muscle of Zoro’s shoulders, his head thrown back against the bedding. This was more like it, this was the domination he wanted, the kind he could struggle against and still give in to. Zoro’s body had his under control, and he liked it. Hands clutched him around the ribs for support, holding him pinned down and even roughly fingering a nipple in the process. Zoro nearly reared up and back, and suddenly gritted his teeth – he was about to come, and slammed into Sanji with the last few thrusts before orgasm hit and locked him in place, his body jerking of its own accord. Sanji didn’t think he was there yet, but the strange feeling inside intensified – Zoro was coming inside him, hot and slick and trembling and hitting all the nerves just right. As the swordsman wilted, he slid a hand down Sanji’s abdomen to his desperately hard erection and haphazardly jerked loose fingers up the length a few times. That was the last push needed, Sanji heaved a gasping cry as he spilled into Zoro’s hand, his body tightening against the cock still deep inside him. At that, Zoro let out a low moan, his free hand sinking into the bedding beside his comrade and the rest of him threatening to follow. The legs wrapped high around his back came loose, and he knew it was a good time to pull out. The sudden absence made Sanji flinch – it was an equally weird feeling as being filled up was, but on top of it he was heated, sweaty, and panting as the sensations ebbed. Zoro collapsed on top of him, but rolled off immediately and laid beside him, also gasping for breath. He then muttered, “...shit. Forgot a towel.”

Sanji didn’t need to ask what for, it seemed obvious. “So go get one. I’m not going anywhere for a while.”

Groaning in annoyance, Zoro rolled himself off the side of the bed and prowled off to the bathroom to grab a towel to clean himself off. At least he was thoughtful enough to bring a clean one for his companion, should he want one, but he made sure he was satisfactory before returning to the bedroom and easing back onto the bed. Sanji still lay sprawled where he had been left, though not looking as shell-shocked as he had the day before. His visible eye was half-closed tiredly, and beads of sweat stood out on his neck. His stomach was yet again a mess, and he felt like he ought to visit the bathroom himself, but overall, he was fine just lying there with the towel draped over his hip. Zoro stretched out beside him, and studied him for a silent moment before draping an arm over his chest and settling down sleepily. Sanji turned his head to look at him, and then rolled it right back the other way, exhaling deeply and not moving a muscle. He was fine with the snuggle, for now, though he would need to get up soon. He needed a cigarette badly, the situation demanded it. After a minute or two, he felt the soft press of lips against his shoulder, and raised an arm to pat the one lying heavily on his chest. “Yeah, yeah,” he sighed. “You win.”

“I wasn’t thinking that,” Zoro mumbled, “but okay. If you insist.”

“Don’t let it go to your head. You’ll never hear me say it again.” The needs of his body finally outweighed the relief of just staying sprawled in bed, so Sanji moved Zoro’s arm and slid out from underneath it, sitting on the edge of the bed for a moment to collect himself before getting up to hit the bathroom himself. When he came back, Zoro was already dozing, stretched out on his side in the same spot. Sanji fumbled around their clothing strewn across the floor to retrieve his briefs and his tobacco purse, so he could sit comfortably on the side of the bed and have that smoke. He was still sitting there, hunched over with his elbow on his knee to keep the ashes from landing on the bedding, when he heard his companion stir, sigh, and groan. “That nap didn’t last long,” he noted, barely turning his head.

Zoro picked his head up and squinted at the bare back facing him. “Don’t worry, I’m going to bed,” he muttered. “I just passed out for a little bit there.”

Sanji finished up and stubbed out the butt, turning his attention more fully toward his bedmate. “Who’s worried? You’re just so typical, is all.”

“Oh, like you’ve never fallen asleep after sex before,” Zoro snorted, sitting up a bit and scuffing his hand through his hair. “I bet you’ve done it a million times.”

Sanji didn’t respond, because it was true. He was a man, after all. He watched the way Zoro’s tough, tanned body moved as he tried to turn down the sheets while still sitting on them, scooting around and eventually pulling the top blanket right off because it did bear signs of a mess from their activity. “...you’re just going to sleep naked?” he wondered.

“Yeah. Why not?” Zoro was simply too lazy to get up and put something on, it wasn’t that he was too hot at all. But he kept that to himself.

“All right, fine,” the cook shrugged. He remained sitting there for a moment, contemplating hunting down the loose pants he had been sleeping in, but in the end opted to just worm under the blankets and rely on body heat. Together the two of them had more than enough to share. He doused the lamp and had barely gotten settled when the swordsman was on him again, practically wrapping himself around the other and resting his chin on Sanji’s shoulder. This, Sanji wasn’t sure how to take. If it really was just about sex and not feelings, where did the closeness and touching come from? They were finished, sated, they should just go to sleep. Admittedly, letting Zoro cuddle up to him would keep him from snoring, but that was only a minor advantage. He decided to leave it for now, he wouldn’t protest or question unless it started to become a weird habit. Once they were off the island, he reminded himself, these irrational desires should subside and they could go back to normal. All in all, it didn’t feel so awful to be held in strong arms, enveloped in heat and treated to the warm caress of the man’s breath against his neck. Sanji remained awake long after Zoro had fallen back asleep, listening to the roaring trees, crashing waves, and creaking house timbers from the wind outside, finally admitting to himself that he was content and at peace. Resistance really was pointless.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Five: time to escape the island and have some adventures.

The wind did not let up at all through the night and into the day, and the gray clouds were thicker and lower throughout the morning. Those with next to no understanding of the weather could never really say if it was going to rain, though at times the skies looked vaguely threatening. The two pirates patiently waited out the day, keeping house and not really acting as if anything had changed between them after last night. Sanji kept looking out the windows, either to watch the waves or to keep an eye out for any messengers sent from Elizabeth to tell them that it would be yet another day before the supply ship could land. They had made all their preparations, everything they wanted to keep was packed away including first aid and food supplies, matches, and other gear. It was Sanji’s insistence that they at least make some kind of effort to clean up the mess they had left by ransacking and residing in this temporary house, in case some other lost soul got shipwrecked on this island and needed a refuge just like they did. Zoro was of the mind that other hypothetical souls could fend for their own damn selves, but he went along with it just to have something to do all day. The last necessary preparation was for Sanji to go through the pantry and plan dinner out of whatever perishable food was still left. He was in the middle of this when Zoro came and sat on a stool on the other side of the prep counter, disgruntled at being out of booze right when he had a chance to sit and drink. The mug of tea the cook set in front of him was not going to cut it, but he took it anyway. “We still have to plan what we’re actually going to do tomorrow morning,” he reminded his comrade. “Unless your brilliant plan is to wing it.”

“Hey, sometimes winging it is the best plan,” Sanji retorted over his shoulder as he finished up and wiped his hands on a towel. “Not this time, though. I have some ideas.”

“It would help to know what time the supply ship is supposed to land,” Zoro noted.

“Not really. The best course is to get up early regardless,” Sanji said, “and make our way over to the quay so that we’re already in place when it arrives.”

Zoro made a face before taking a sip of his tea. “So no sleeping in, this time.”

“And no funny business keeping us awake all night,” Sanji warned, giving his comrade a suspicious look. “Now. Unless we get word of another delay, we should count on the ship being there at any time, and prepare to meet it before any of the locals can beat us to the punch.”

Zoro eyed him thoughtfully. “Ah. Because if they catch us there, they’ll know we’re trying to escape.”

“Exactly. We could fight them off if we have to, but I’d rather sneak out right from under their noses. If we play our cards right, we could be on the supply ship before any of them even realize we were there.” Sanji scratched at his chin while he ran scenarios quickly through his head. “I did say I was going to go looking for a newspaper today...maybe I’ll put in an appearance around their village and act like I’m all excited about this banquet. Throw them off the scent even more.”

“While you’re at it, find out if anyone knows if the weather’s going to change,” the swordsman grumbled. Both of them had independently thought that it seemed like maybe the wind was dying down a little, but neither could be positive.

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.” Snooping around the village would also prevent any of the okama from sniffing around their refuge house, Sanji knew. He left the kitchen for a moment to go and fetch his suit jacket, and came out already settling it on his shoulders. “Don’t go too far while I’m out,” he suggested. “I don’t want you to end up clear on the other side of the island and make me waste time tonight trying to find you.”

Zoro’s face twisted with a scowl. “I wasn’t planning on going anywhere!” he snapped. “I was just going to train like I did yesterday, so you can lay off me already.”

Sanji glanced up from buttoning his suit coat. That was a pleasant memory, of the swordsman’s body soaking wet with seawater. He remembered the taste of sea salt on his skin later that night, too. Sanji swallowed those thoughts and tossed his head arrogantly. “Fine. I’ll be back shortly, I’m not going to hang around there too long.”

Zoro waited until he was almost out the door, and then gave him a parting shot. “If you come back in a dress, I’m locking you outside until I can stop laughing.” He heard Sanji growl savagely, and then the door slammed. Zoro smirked smugly to himself and had a sip of tea, feeling victorious.

Sanji made the long walk across the island to the cluster of houses where the self-proclaimed citizens of Kamabakka Kingdom lived, thinking and plotting the whole way and doing his best not to let his mind wander. He really was feeling much calmer and more relaxed after last night, it was easier to focus on more important matters when he wasn’t constantly trying to ignore or deny the magnetic pull between him and Zoro. And aside from a little touching just after waking, they hadn’t really done anything to each other all day to indicate that their bedroom antics were becoming something more. All he had to do was stop himself from reminiscing about the feel, taste, and other sensations at inappropriate moments, and Sanji could consider himself almost normal. He strutted through the village with his usual confidence, not letting the okama scare or shame him into fleeing this time, not engaging them in very long conversations but just enough to give the appearance that he was getting used to being there and didn’t mind their company. In truth, they still revolted him, but he could keep up appearances as long as he needed. He decided to make his last stop the little tavern, and there he got all the information he had gone seeking. Someone let him take away a day-old newspaper, and he chatted enough with the hostess (really, a burly bartender in a wig) to find out that the last they heard, the supply ship would indeed land tomorrow morning. The tavern apparently was waiting for a restock as well, so the keeper was as keen on the ship’s itinerary as the pirates were. Thanking them all with his most charming demeanor, Sanji bid them farewell until the banquet tomorrow and headed briskly back to the house on the shore.

Zoro was on the beach below the house doing his tenth set of one-handed push-ups when his crewmate returned, though he didn’t notice until he finished counting and got to his feet. Sanji was sitting on the embankment above him, reading the newspaper. “Oh, there you are,” the swordsman remarked, setting his hands on his hips and looking up. “What’d you find out?”

“Everything should be good to go tomorrow,” the cook reported, shuffling the pages and lowering the paper. “The captain of the ship called to say they were in position to land in the morning no matter what the wind does.” He sniffed proudly. “I timed that just right. The tavern has a den-den mushi as well, they told me everything.”

Zoro perked up visibly at the word _tavern_. “Did you bring back any booze?”

“No, sorry. They’re running low.” Sanji made a face at his comrade’s wilt. “It seems a bottle of their best sake went missing from inventory a few days ago.”

“Oh...right. That.” Zoro picked up his swords and trudged back up to the top of the embankment, while Sanji got up and brushed grass off his trousers. “What about the news?”

“Nothing about any of ours.” Sanji offered him the paper, folded in half and a bit wrinkled. “See for yourself if you want.”

“No news is good news, I guess.” Zoro took it, though he didn’t open it to read right away.

“Don’t let me interrupt your precious exercise.” Sanji turned and tucked his hands in his pockets as he headed for the house. “I’m going to start dinner pretty soon. Do whatever you want.”

He went inside, and a few minutes later Zoro followed, his eyes on the front page of the newspaper as he walked. “Nothing,” he reported, vaguely relieved. “That means they’re safe.”

“Safe from the Marines, maybe,” Sanji muttered over his shoulder. “It just means no one got caught. Maybe that warlord bastard vanished all of them off the archipelago, even Luffy.”

“That’s not such a bad thing if you think about it.” Zoro ambled to the counter and managed to perch himself on the stool while still reading, or at least skimming over the paper. He had the vague sense that Sanji’s mood had darkened, but he was busy catching up on minor news tidbits from the last week. There was absolutely no mention of any of the Straw Hat pirates or their ship, or even the scuffle on Sabaody, but that had been several days ago now and the newspaper had moved on to more current events. Then, he spotted a little blurb buried a few pages back and gave a small grunt of alarm. “What...?”

Sanji’s demeanor had indeed changed, after reading the paper himself. With his back still to his comrade, he said, “Found it, did you.”

Zoro’s head came up, his eyes hard. “They’re going to execute Luffy’s brother in just a couple of days!”

“Mhm.” Sanji turned from the sink, his head bowed. The crew hadn’t spent very long with Ace, but it was just enough to know that he was a pretty cool guy, and a good older brother to Luffy. Enough to know what the tiny article about the preparations for the public execution at Marineford meant, to themselves as well as to their captain. Sanji took a moment to fish a cigarette out of his pocket and tuck it between his lips, though he didn’t light it. “There’s no way we can make it in time.”

Zoro’s hands clenched on the newspaper, tight enough to rip it in half down the middle. “I know,” he seethed. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t be pissed off about it.”

Sanji breathed a deep sigh. “Do you think Luffy knows?”

“If he does...” Zoro’s tight expression darkened even more. “...he’ll be there.”

“Without us.”

“I know.” The swordsman abruptly got up and wadded the ripped newspaper into a ball, throwing it as hard as he could toward the nearest wall. It didn’t make a satisfying enough thud (more like a whiff) so he kicked a chair, too. Sanji merely stood where he was, glaring at the floor, the unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. There was absolutely nothing they could do about it, even though their beloved captain was miles and miles away from them at this dark time and needed them. Knowing this made them both angry, but there wasn’t much sense in railing against what they could not do. Kuma had sent them too far away to be of any use, and the delay in finding some way off the pink island had cost them even the slightest chance at catching up. Zoro was content to put his fist through the wall, and then his ire ebbed, leaving his knuckles scraped and a souvenir hole in the plaster. He didn’t know what to do with himself after that, so he sort of drifted through the kitchen to the one undamaged chair in the sitting area. Behind him, Sanji went back to making dinner, the only thing he knew how to do when nothing else made sense.

The house remained mostly silent and the mood subdued through dinner, though the food helped to ease things slightly. Sanji had cooked everything that needed to be cleared out of the pantry before they left in the morning, so there was plenty to fill their stomachs and it tasted as fantastic as his usual fare. Zoro usually found it impossible to stay grouchy about anything after food, though he was still far from cheerful after such bad news. Routine put Sanji back into a state resembling normal, though he didn’t really initiate conversation until after the final course had been decimated and a cigarette finished. “I guess if you want that bath,” he murmured, “you’d better get to it. It’s early to bed and early to rise for us.”

“Yeah...” Zoro lingered long enough to help clear the table, but after that went to use up most of the hot water. His intention wasn’t to luxuriate, just to wash up and treat his healing wounds. It felt good to scrub down, even though he wasn’t really all that disgusting – just a little rank from sweat after exercising. By the time he finished, he was more or less calm and resigned to the truth, ready to go ahead and carry out their plan for escaping the island without worrying about things they couldn’t control. He came out with the second-to-last clean towel around his neck, and happened to nearly run bodily into his crewmate there in the hall as he passed. They glanced at each other, and didn’t even need to say anything; both went into the bedroom, and Zoro sat down on the bed to have his shoulder wrapped back up.   
Sanji checked the progress and simply re-wrapped the bandages as they had been earlier, secured across the middle of his chest. As he knotted off the last one, Zoro stretched out an arm and hooked it around the cook’s legs, keeping him from escaping and drawing him in a little closer. Sighing, Sanji laid a hand on his friend’s head and ruffled his hair, permitting himself to be held and half-embraced this way. “When did you get to be such a big damn softie?”

“Shut up.” Zoro pulled gently on the belt chain, maneuvering Sanji around him until he stood directly before him, in the space formed by Zoro’s parted legs. That allowed him to lean forward and tiredly rest his head against Sanji’s stomach. 

They stood like that for a while, silent and comfortable, until Zoro’s hands drifted and found his comrade’s ass of their own volition, caressing a little more firmly. Sanji stopped rubbing his fingers through Zoro’s hair and frowned. “Oi. I didn’t give you permission.”

Zoro lifted his head and peered upward. “I didn’t know I needed permission.”

“You damn well do.” Sanji reached around and pried one of the hands off him in a deliberate show. “I told you this wasn’t going to become a habit.”

“Oh, so we’re only allowed to do it when _you_ need to use _me_.” Zoro kept peering, but he did move his other hand into the small of Sanji’s back. “Is that it?”

Sanji’s lips twitched briefly, but he didn’t glare at the accusation. “No, I’m just not in the mood. Never mind that we need to sleep.” He stepped back out of the embrace and grabbed the wet towel from off the bed where they had left it while tending to other things. “If you’re still that wound up, take care of it yourself. I’m going to go take a bath. A _long_ one,” he added with a meaningful look over his shoulder. He took the towel with him and disappeared into the other room.

Sighing, Zoro sagged and then flopped onto his back on the bed. He had none of the qualms about their encounters that Sanji had, his diatribe about his views on sex had been completely honest. What he still kept to himself was that he had entertained thoughts of trying to seduce the cook before. More than once. If he disregarded their clashing personalities and the way they tended to irritate each other, Zoro actually found the other man attractive in that respect-for-a-fellow-fighter sense. Perhaps if they weren’t constantly trying to provoke each other, they would have become the sort of friends who could fall into bed with each other far earlier than this. But then, part of what made Sanji so interesting was the same thing that made him irritating. _Damned if I do,_ Zoro thought, _damned if I don’t._

He rearranged himself into a more comfortable position on the bed, curling one arm under his head and staring at the ceiling. The wind had definitely died down, it no longer made the rafters of the little house creak or the windows rattle. That meant that every small sound inside could be heard clearly. From where he lay, Zoro could hear the water running in the bathroom one room over, and the much fainter and more subtle sounds of movement, clothing being shed, washing being done. Despite his momentary distaste for the suggestion of easing his own tensions, Zoro found himself tugging his pants open and sliding a hand inside to grasp himself gently. It was easy to envision what his comrade was doing, and from there mentally admire the shape and tone of his naked body. After all, he had gotten more than an eyeful of it last night. Zoro closed his eyes and let a content smirk drift across his lips as he let his imagination wander, recalling the cook’s flexible body bent beneath him last night and the thought of doing it to him again as soon as possible. It had been everything Zoro had hoped it would, worth a repeat performance. For now, though, he simply laid there and stroked himself to the tune of those memories, and perhaps the start of a fantasy he might like to indulge involving that bath. It really wasn’t much of a surprise that he was finished before Sanji was, though he blamed it less on his technique and more on the rather visceral fantasy that now included the taste of the cook’s skin and the scent that Zoro finally knew for himself – the one that hid down beneath the smell of cigarettes and fresh fish. He knew exactly what it felt like to run his fingers through that blond hair, he knew the size of each muscle and the strength of his legs, and even the sound of his voice when raised in the cries of passion. Really, with so much new information on just what it was like to have Sanji, it was probably more surprising that Zoro could draw out the session as long as he did.

He was perfectly back to normal and just lying there shirtless and sleepy when the cook wandered back in, his hair still wet and his shirt hanging open. He cast Zoro an aloof look and went about getting ready for bed, not wanting to know what the swordsman had done while left to himself. He fully expected to be molested once the lights were out and the blankets pulled up around them, but he was all right with it – better that than starting an argument and turning one last night of decent sleep in a comfortable bed into an awkward situation. Sanji stretched out on his side in the darkness, and sure enough, Zoro curled up against his back, one arm draped over him. But that was it, there was no touching or attempts at cajoling him into fooling around. In fact, Zoro was asleep within minutes. Sanji envied him for that, but the warmth of their shared bed and the secure sense of being held instead of the one holding ensured that he dropped off shortly after.

Dawn came far too early, but the pirates were used to occasionally needing to be up to see it. Breakfast was nothing more than bread and anything left over from the night before, cold and eaten while standing. They stuffed whatever last-minute items needed to be taken into the duffel, made sure the furnace and anything else in the little house was turned off, and fled into the morning like fugitives. Faint mists clung to the pink trees and shrubbery in the interior of the island, but the sun had just risen and was already hard at work burning them off. It was a sure sign that the wind and weather had changed, and the quay would be open to landing ships. Sanji led the way, cutting directly across the island with only a slight veer to the east to avoid passing too close to Elizabeth’s home. Zoro kept up with him, determined not to let him out of his sight lest they get split up and end up missing the ship. They ran across open stretches of flower-strewn fields and slowed to a brisk hike through thicker underbrush, while the sun slowly rose up to the height of the trees and warmed the damp chill out of them. The path to the quay seemed to open up suddenly before them, and Sanji paused to check up and down its length as far as the eye could see before hopping down the embankment onto the flagstone and gesturing for Zoro to come along. The swordsman toted the bag over his shoulder, an easy burden, though he kept his other hand on the three swords to prevent them from making too much noise. Plenty of birds were making a ruckus in the pink foliage anyway, but it was a matter of precaution. No boats had made a landing as of yet, when they reached the edge of the water, but the morning light blazed on the sails of a ship some miles out, headed vaguely in the direction of the quay. Zoro stood shielding his eyes with a hand. “Looks like we made it in time.”

“Perfect,” Sanji said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Now we just wait for them to land, and ask them to take us with them.”

“That’s it?” Zoro arched an eyebrow at him. “That’s your brilliant plan?”

“Assuming none of the okama get here before that.” Sanji was tempted to get out a cigarette, but he didn’t want to celebrate just yet. Instead, he set his hands on his hips and gazed out across the sea. “I have plenty of brilliant plans for the likely event that they show up to unload cargo before we can even climb into the landing boat.”

“You really think they’d stop us?”

“I don’t know what to expect.” The cook’s expression hardened briefly. He hadn’t expected to be pursued around the entire island by a pack of nutters who couldn’t take “no” for an answer, after all. “Best to leave them wondering than give them a reason to make this even harder for us.”

“Whatever.” Zoro glanced behind them at the flagstone path winding up into the trees. There was no sign of movement, no sound but for the birds and the lap of waves on the shore. They seemed safe, but it would take time for the ship to land. Possibly upwards of an hour or more. He only looked back when Sanji smacked him in the arm to get his attention – he wanted to go up behind some rocks, where they would have a good view of both the path and the quay. Zoro followed without a word, hunkering down and finally unloading the duffel. If they had to wait a little bit more, so be it. Their salvation was within view, at least.

It took a little over an hour for the ship to enter the bay, at which point they could see a landing boat being lowered into the water. But before the two men could even think of going out to meet it, they could hear the sound of someone approaching from the path that led up into the trees. As expected, a couple of the crossdressers were there to meet the cargo ship, walking in their heels and dresses with a two-wheeled hand cart being dragged behind them. Sanji groaned quietly, and Zoro sighed. “Of course they wouldn’t make this easy,” the former muttered.

“Well, smart guy, time for your plan,” Zoro murmured back.

Sanji looked back and forth between the figures coming down the path and the laden landing boat making its way across the waves. “We have to time this right,” he whispered. “Follow my lead and let me do the talking.”

Zoro followed his gaze and then frowned at him. “What are you going to do?”

“Kick a couple of asses, first.” Sanji held him back with one arm raised, waiting until the okama reached the quay and parked the cart. At that exact moment, he waved for the swordsman to follow and burst out of the bushes, leaping down from the embankment and striking out quickly with his legs the second he touched down. The question whether he could kick a man dressed as a woman was quickly answered in that instant; he kicked both of them back up the path a few feet with hardly any effort, though Zoro alighted next to him and blew past with Wadou Ichimonji in hand, using the flat of the blade to knock them both unconscious. He straightened up and admired his own handiwork before turning back to Sanji, about to ask a stupid question, when the cook raised his hand again. “I said, let me do the talking,” he warned, turning around to face the ocean. “Meantime, push that cart off the trail.”

Zoro scowled at his back, but had to tilt his head questioningly as Sanji bent down, grabbed a handful of sand, and scuffed it across his face and sleeves. He then strode down to the edge of the water until the waves lapped at his ankles, and crouched there for a moment. Though he didn’t understand what in the world this plan entailed, Zoro did as ordered and picked up the cart, still strong enough to simply manhandle it and toss it aside into the bushes. The two unconscious okama remained, but as there had been no orders regarding them, the swordsman ignored them and came up behind his comrade. “What are you doing?” he asked in a low tone.

“You’ll see.” Sanji glanced slightly over his shoulder. “Just play along. Don’t say anything to ruin this.”

“What makes you think I would ever do...” The splash of oars became suddenly more audible, and Zoro cut himself off as he looked up and noticed how close the landing boat was getting. Up until now, it had been distant enough or hidden by the embankment, but now they could see it was almost to the quay and none the wiser about what had happened there.

One of the sailors leaped out into the waves in order to help land the boat. At that instant, Sanji stood up and flailed his arms. “Oh, thank heaven you came! You’re just in time! You saved us!”

The sailors in the boat, all clad in loose shirts and either hats or bandannas, gave him the oddest look. Then one spotted the prone bodies a few feet away and wondered, “What happened?”

“Oh, it’s terrible!” Sanji insisted, putting on his best melodramatics for the act. “These people just attacked us, out of nowhere! We came down to help with the cargo but then they jumped us, I bet they’re pirates or something!”

Zoro was terrible at playing pretend, so he just stood there, looking dumbfounded. The sailors began to spill out of the landing boat, finishing the process of dragging it onto the beach and taking a look for themselves. Despite the man with the swords standing there, it didn’t look like there were any cuts on the two unconscious okama, revealed for what they were with their wigs knocked off. “Bloody hell,” one sailor remarked in a somewhat high-toned voice. “Did they really? Why would they attack you over some food supplies?”

“I don’t know, but if that’s the way they’re going to be, I want no part of it.” Sanji stumbled into the waves and grabbed that sailor by the front of his shirt. “Please, you have to take us with you before any more of them try the same thing! Why, I’d bet they sent us down here to meet the cargo ship just to set us up – and then steal your cargo!”

The sailors all blinked again. “What, steal the cargo? That doesn’t make any sense, we’re supposed to deliver it to them…”

“But we’re the ones with the money from Miss Elizabeth!” Sanji suddenly produced a wad of beli from his pocket, making even Zoro start. He hadn’t even noticed the cook pickpocket their victims. Either way, it instantly swayed the sailors to their side, by the looks on their faces. Sanji, however, was on a roll, and sold his story well. “It’s been like this all week, I think there’s some kind of revolt or something going on on this island. There’s a bunch of them who didn’t take kindly to us at all. Oh, I hope Miss Elizabeth will be all right.”

The sailors consulted amongst themselves for a minute. “Well, this cargo is bought and paid for,” the first one finally said, holding out his hand for the money. “We can’t take it back, and we can’t fit any more in the boat unless we unload it. Give us a hand, would you?”

Sanji nodded briskly, gesturing for Zoro to get his ass over and help. Together they worked with the sailors to unload the cargo and leave it on the beach, though someone came up with the brilliant idea to hog-tie the unconscious “thieves” and leave them for the others to find. The sailors promised to call the island queen and report the near-theft once they were back aboard the ship and could inform the captain. “Are you sure you want to come with us?” another sailor asked of the two men, clearly not dressed as women. “You’re not residents of Kamabakka Kingdom?”

“Hell no,” Zoro grumbled.

“No, we were shipwrecked,” Sanji quickly explained, jabbing Zoro in the side with his elbow as subtly as he could. “Miss Elizabeth was so kind to take us in and treat our wounds, this was our way of repaying her generosity. But I don’t want to get caught up in some kind of okama civil war. We don’t belong in the middle of that.”

“All right, then,” the sailor shrugged. “Get on board.”

The two pirates eagerly clambered into the boat, Zoro flinging the duffel bag in with them, and then they were shoving off, finally free of Peachy Island. It wasn’t until the landing boat was a tiny speck against the hull of the supply ship in the distance that the two okama woke up and realized they were in a hell of a predicament – and their attackers were nowhere to be seen.

The crew of the supply ship reeled in the landing boat and were surprised to find two extra passengers, who naturally had to be brought to the captain of the ship. The sailor who agreed to bring them had to report the theft anyway, and ask their captain to use the den-den mushi to contact the island queen and let her know what happened. As they marched across the deck, Zoro thought to himself that all of the sailors on this vessel looked to be small in stature. Some were rather slight, some stocky but short. Not a beard among them. Were they all young, a ship of boys? But then the captain came down from his cabin, and the weirdness increased. Taller, stouter, and full of authority, there was also no mistaking that the captain was, in fact, a woman. A very manly woman, but there were subtle signs that told the difference. Sanji even noticed, and perked up in a very uncertain way. When the captain spoke, her voice was rough and gravelly but not as deep as a man’s would be. “So! What have we here – a couple of stowaways?”

The sailor who manned the landing boat explained the story as given, and that was when the two pirates realized he was a she as well. In fact, they all were. It was rather confusing, but neither were going to remark on it until they were sure they weren’t going to be tossed overboard. The captain definitely looked more suspicious about the circumstances, but Sanji’s dirtied shirt looked to have been through a fight, and both men wore absolutely serious looks. “I didn’t know anything like that was going on in Kamabakka,” the captain rumbled, stroking her chin. “Shame, that. Caroline has never been anything but decent to me. Ah, well – Samu, go get the den-den mushi, I gotta put in a call to her to make sure she gets her cargo. As for you two...”

Sanji tried not to cringe and sweat as the rather manly (and slightly hirsute) woman bent down to peer into his face. “Ah, your hospitality is appreciated, captain,” he stammered. “We’ve been shipwrecked, we just want to make it to the nearest port to get our bearings and find passage home. If there’s anything we can do to compensate you…”

The captain looked back and forth between them, taking in their appearance and demeanor. Sanji was doing his best to be polite, while Zoro stood aside aloofly, arms folded, wearing a slight frown and no sign of scuffle at all. The captain returned to Sanji and pointed at his comrade. “What, is he your bodyguard or something, fancy-pants?”

Both of them nearly choked at the insinuation, but Sanji was smart enough to seize an opportunity and run with it. “Yes, actually,” he responded, looking as sheepish as he could. “That’s right, you’re very perceptive.”

“Like hell I am!” Zoro hissed through clenched teeth.

“And if he knows what’s good for him…” Sanji rounded on him and gave him a pointed glare. “...he’ll _do his job_ and protect me. But I’m _sure_ the crew of this fine ship would never think of such a thing.”

“Damn right they won’t!” The captain puffed out her chest proudly. “The _Golden Lotus_ is an upstanding ship with the best all-female crew on the Grand Line! You’re in safe hands with us, mister...?”

The words “all female” made Sanji perk up considerably. Zoro murmured under his breath, “Don’t say Mr. Prince...”

But Sanji actually introduced himself by name, without the epithet attached to his bounty poster, and bowed slightly. He would be on his best manners when surrounded by women. “And I thank you for taking us aboard. Did you say, this ship’s crew is all women...?”

A more sober look crossed the captain’s face. “Technically, yeah.”

Zoro raised an eyebrow. “Technically?”

“Here. Come this way, I’ll show you to a cabin you can use. The journey to our next port should only take a couple of days now that the wind changed.” The captain turned and barked out orders, sending the crew scrambling to raise anchor, drop sail, and depart from the pink island’s shores. Sanji and Zoro followed her up to the top deck where the cabins and bridge sat, and only then did the captain expound on that cryptic description. “You’ve been to Kamabakka, so you know how all the men there want to be women,” she huffed. “You can consider the _Golden Lotus_ to be exactly the opposite. All the girls here aren’t really girls at heart, they want to be men.” She placed her hand over her chest, which only called emphasis to the fact that beneath her baggy shirt, wrapped bandages made her look flat. “Strong, brave, and glorious! None of us could succeed where we came from, we weren’t allowed. They made us all wear dresses and makeup and look pretty, and stay weak. The only way any of us could get stronger, become better fighters and better sailors, was to run away from home and join up with this crew. I’m the second captain – call me Cap’n Hardy,” she added. “I loved this ship so much that I had to keep her going with the same mission in mind. All my boys are hard workers, and there’s nobody who can ever tell ‘em that they aren’t every bit as strong as a man born a man.”

Sanji was just as crestfallen as he had been to learn there weren’t really pretty girls under those dresses on the island. Zoro, however, had a keen look in his eye, like he understood completely. “They’re really that strong, huh?” he wondered. “Are any of them any good with a sword?”

“Eh, passable,” Hardy shrugged. “We protect our ship and our own well enough, if we get attacked by pirates. But we’re sailors, not warriors. Our first job is to sail the supply route and get cargo to these islands in good time. We fight well enough to keep the pirates at bay, that’s all.”

Zoro looked out across the deck of the ship, where all the crew members were hard at work. He wouldn’t have called any of them weak just to look at them. “How about this, then?” he said heavily. “In exchange for letting us on board, I’ll train your boys as best I can in two days. Test their fighting skills and see if they’re as strong as you say.”

Sanji spluttered at him. “You’re going to fight women? You asshole!”

Captain Hardy gazed keenly at both of them. “You’re not exactly who you said you were, are you?”

Zoro turned his head toward her, beginning to grin. “I’m sure as hell nobody’s bodyguard.”

The captain abruptly turned away from them again, this time to duck into the bridge and fetch the den-den mushi to make that report to someone on the island. The two pirates peeked in after her, and noticed that like many ships that had to sail pirate-infested waters on a regular basis, they had a series of wanted posters tacked up to the far wall next to the navigation posters. On top of a sheaf of posters stood Luffy’s grinning photo – top of the stack of Straw Hat pirates’ posters. Hardy went to the wall and gave it a once-over, and then raised her thick eyebrow at the two of them peeping in the doorway. “I thought that name sounded familiar. That would make you Roronoa Zoro of the three swords, wouldn’t it?”

“Ah, shit.” Sanji took out a cigarette and lit it, finally dropping his act. “Guess she’s onto us, moss-head.”

“That doesn’t change anything.” Zoro folded his arms again. “Just because she knows our names doesn’t mean we don’t need passage to another port.”

“Is that so?” Hardy came back towards them. “Because if you’re trying to hijack my ship, I can promise you, my boys will put up a hell of a fight. The two of you against all of them could get messy, and it won’t end well for anyone.”

“The only bullshit we gave you was the stuff about being attacked by the okama,” Zoro stated flatly. “We don’t give a crap about your ship. We have to get back to our crew, and the two of us alone can’t man a ship this size. We’re perfectly fine letting you take us there, so long as the trade-off is not being turned in to the Marines when we get there.”

Hardy peered at them once more, and then shrugged. “You’ve got a point. You don’t cause trouble on my ship, I don’t cause trouble for you. But does that mean, were you serious about testing my boys and their skills?”

“Sure.” Zoro wore his dead serious look. “It’d be more exciting than sitting around on my ass the whole time.”

The captain shifted to Sanji. “And what can you do, Mr. Black Leg?”

Sanji raised his curled eyebrow back at her. “I’m a cook. Do you need one?”

“Nah, we got a cook. But if you want to pitch in around the galley, I don’t think Kev would say no.”

“Fine.” Sanji heaved a sigh; just his luck, a ship full of women who didn’t want to be. Not any more fun than Kamabakka Kingdom after all. “We’re not here to start shit, like Zoro said. We just want to get back to our crew.”

“Then we got a deal.” Captain Hardy gestured to the next door over. “That’s the passenger cabin. It’s nothing fancy. And don’t get snippy if I have my first mate keep an eye on you, just in case. But I don’t think the crew needs to know we’ve got a couple of pirates on board. A cook and his bodyguard is a pretty good story, stick with it.” She pointed hard at them, particularly at Zoro. “And as far as you’re concerned, they’re boys just like you. Don’t treat ‘em any different, and don’t go easy on ‘em when it comes time for a little sparring.”

A knowing smirk dawned on Zoro’s lips. “I never go easy on anyone. No matter who they say they are.”

Satisfied, Captain Hardy left them to their own devices, then. They ducked into the cabin to stow their baggage, finding that it was indeed nothing special – two sets of two bunks on either wall and a tiny table, with a lamp bolted to the wall. At least it was a cargo ship that could carry passengers if needed, and they wouldn’t have to bunk with the crew. Zoro didn’t care, but Sanji was torn between being flustered and disappointed. “Damn my shitty luck,” he complained. “All those girls are hiding their beautiful curves and don’t want to be seen as girls. What am I supposed to do?”

“Get over it,” Zoro replied bluntly. “We’re not on this ship to feed your libido, we’re just here for the ride.”

“I can’t believe you’re going to fight them,” Sanji groused, chomping on his cigarette. “If you hurt any of them, so help me...”

“If you had an ounce of the respect you say you do,” Zoro suddenly blazed, “you would let them be who they want to be and not coddle them because they were born women!”

Sanji recoiled from him, surprised as hell. He stared for a long moment, and slowly quieted. “What the hell is your problem?” he wondered.

The momentary flare of grief that manifested as rage ebbed as quickly as it had flared up. Zoro had been thinking that if Kuina were still alive, she could be a member of this crew, and be proud of it. “It’s none of your business,” he said heavily.

It didn’t take a genius to know there was something deep beyond those words, but Sanji decided it wasn’t his place to pry. The best respect to show his crewmate was to accept his dismissal and move on. He dug in the duffel bag and found a cloth he could use to clean the dirt off his face, now that they didn’t have to keep up the charade. “I’m going to have a look at their galley and say hello,” he murmured, also dusting off his sleeves. “Do whatever you want.”

Zoro remained there for a minute after he left, and then wandered out as well, going to stand against the railing and look out at the ship, its crew, and the ocean. It may not have been their crew aboard the Thousand Sunny, but they were still asea like it should be, and taking the first step toward reuniting. Zoro couldn’t be unhappy about that one bit, no matter who it was who picked them up and got them away from the solitary pink island.

 

Fair winds and fine skies followed the cargo ship all the way along its journey to the next port in their routine. The galley-cook didn’t really need any extra hands helping, but didn’t mind having another chef to trade recipes and cuisine tales with, something Sanji could easily do while relaxing in a chair with a cigarette and a cup of tea. It kept him occupied so that he wouldn’t go out and watch Zoro putting the crew’s best fighters through their paces. None of them had a preferred style or quality weapons, they all pretty much fit the bill of any non-pirate crew with very basic sword use and a willingness to punch and kick. Several had indeed heard of him by reputation, and instead of being scared, were eager to face him like a bunch of kids in a dojo trying to beat a wandering master (though more than a few were older than him). He stuck with _nitoryu_ , leaving Wadou sheathed while he stood in the middle of a throng of sailors doing their best to take him down one way or another. No one could, but none of them came away from that practice session disappointed. When Zoro figured they had enough, he waved them off and went looking for a drink, agreeing to give them another chance at him tomorrow.

He met Sanji in the doorway of the mess, and was unceremoniously pushed back out. “It’s not time for dinner, yet,” the cook coolly reported. “You’re going to have to wait like all the others.”

“I just want something to drink, I’ve been working out with those guys for hours,” Zoro complained.

Sighing, Sanji rolled his eyes and went back in, coming out a minute later with a tankard. “Don’t get too excited, it’s just water,” he murmured as he handed it over. “I know where to get the good stuff later.”

Zoro tipped back his head and drained it in one long gulp, obviously not caring that it wasn’t alcohol. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, gave the tankard back, and breezed off elsewhere. “Thanks,” he called smugly over his shoulder.

Bristling, Sanji returned the mug to the galley and went off after him, mostly just needing a break from the other cook’s attention for a while. He found his compatriot on the uppermost deck, looking out over the water and enjoying the feel of the clean, clear sea breeze in his face. “How was it?” he asked warily.

“You sure you want to know?” Zoro cast him that same smug grin before turning his face back into the wind. “After all, I might have hurt some _ladies_.”

The cook sniffed in disgust at the provocation. “I don’t know how it would be any different from any other time you fight. You never care who it is, you’ll damage them just the same.”

“It was just a sparring session.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sanji had never really been exposed to people whose hearts differed from their physical forms, it was an attitude he couldn’t quite adjust to so quickly. Like in Kamabakka Kingdom, the only thing he could do was avoid as much as he could. He looked away, letting the wind ruffle his hair from behind. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“It went fine.” Zoro rested his hands on the railing and leaned heavily against them. “They’re not weak. As long as they’re not attacked by any pirates as strong as us, they’ll be fine.”

Sanji shifted back toward him, following his absent gaze to the bright blue waters. “This part of the Grand Line is crawling with…what did Miss Shakky call them? Supernovas. Rookies with incredible bounties heading for the New World. There have to be at least as many with bounties over fifty million just hanging out in these waters, never daring to go near Sabaody or the government islands.”

“Yeah, and there’s thousands of people who live in these waters just fine, not really worried about those kinds of pirates from day to day.” Zoro glanced at him; even in the Age of Pirates, people tended to go about their lives as normal, rather than live in constant fear of pirate attacks. Either it was a testament to the strength of the Marines, or a fact of life that people were more resilient than they gave themselves credit for. “Maybe these guys haven’t really faced that kind of challenge before. Lucky for them, you and I aren’t interested in commandeering their ship. Maybe this way they’ll be ready when the first ‘supernova’ sends a cannonball across their bow.”

“Why are you so interested in protecting them?” Sanji wondered, peering.

“I have my reasons.” The swordsman huffed under his breath. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, it’s not like I’m going out of my way or anything. As soon as we make port tomorrow, we’ll never see them again and life goes on.”

Sanji gazed at him a moment longer, and then let it be. It wasn’t like he didn’t have his own somewhat arbitrary and yet binding personal code, so he decided not to pester his comrade about his. A comfortable silence lapsed between them while they looked out across the waves and considered themselves lucky to have escaped, a silence which lasted until they heard the call to mess for dinner. Like most crews this size, half the crew came in to eat at one time so that enough hands would be on deck to manage the rigging and rudder. Being guests of a sort, Sanji and Zoro lingered in the galley the whole time, under no great drive to hurry up and finish and get out. Most of the would-be boys were nowhere near pretty and feminine enough for Sanji to even consider hitting on, even if some part of him had his radar trained on the breasts hidden underneath loose shirts and chest wraps. He sat at one end of a table with a bemused expression on his face as he watched most of the crew fawn over Zoro instead – over his fighting skills and prowess, and not his physical attractiveness. Instead of wanting to be charmed by the gentleman, they wanted to hear tales of the strong enemies he had battered down to earn himself the 120-million bounty. However, Zoro was not much of a talker, considerably less so with no alcohol in front of him and too many people crowded around him. Picking up on his discomfort, Sanji finally spoke up, offering to tell them the tales if they were so interested. He didn’t even fudge the facts or focus on his own merits, instead relating the stories of the entire crew with a slant toward Luffy’s exploits. After all, the reason their bounties were so high was because of Luffy’s actions at Enies Lobby – that was an incredible story all its own, without any bias toward any one of the fighters. Captain Hardy chided some of the crew for being so enthused about a story in which the Marines came out the loser, but couldn’t deny that hearing the actual story – no cover-ups about the Buster Call – from those who were there was quite a treat. As the second shift in the mess began to finally trickle away, the cook brought out a bottle of wine for the captain to split however appropriate, and at last the two pirates found themselves left mostly alone with just a few select crew members, the captain, and glasses of wine in front of them. “So, what’s the name of this port town we’re headed to?” Sanji asked as he took it upon himself to pour the wine.

Hardy took a glass and had a good gulp before answering. “Oh, it’s Esme. Fair-sized island, almost completely built-over. It makes sense, they’re a trading hub so they just import everything instead of having their own farms and such.”

Zoro sniffed the wine, not used to something so flavorful, while Sanji leaned back and took his glass to him, relaxing. “So, something like Loguetown, then.”

“Never been to Loguetown, but from what I hear, yeah.” The captain shrugged. “It’s our main base, even though we don’t really call it home or nothing. Home is this ship. See, the funny thing is, Kamabakka is a little out of our way, but I still make it one of the regular stops on our supply route. Most of the other ports are north and west of here, but then we come through Esme and get down to Peachy Island regularly because no one else will go there.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” Zoro snorted into his glass.

Captain Hardy went on as if not hearing him. “Acting Queen Caroline has never been anything but good to work with. They have a buyer in Esme that they contact, but we handle all the transport.”

Sanji raised an eyebrow. “Caroline? I don’t know if I met a Caroline...”

“She was one of the others at Elizabeth’s house when I went there,” Zoro reported.

“Oh, _now_ you tell me.”

“It wasn’t important at the time.”

“So if you two were shipwrecked,” Hardy interrupted, “what happened to the rest of your crew? Where’s the famous Monkey D. Luffy?”

The pair silenced their bickering and looked at each other before Sanji answered. “It’s kind of a complicated situation. We’re not sure where he is at the moment, but we’re on our way back to him, to meet up with him. At Sabaody archipelago.”

“Oh...” The captain mulled it over for a moment. “Come to think of it, there was a rumor that there was some kind of hullabaloo there last week. Admirals and all that. Hope for your sakes he missed out on that. Well!” The good mood was back quickly after another sip of wine. “You can’t do better than sailing for Esme. Transport ships come and go from there all the time with their cargo, you’re bound to find one headed for Sabaody sooner or later.”

“Cargo ships travel using eternal posts...” Sanji said it more to himself than anything, he was just thinking about it. They were at the mercy of other ships and their navigators in order to get back. Of course, if he could get his hands on an eternal post for Sabaody, they could commandeer a ship and do as they liked, but that was an equally difficult strategy to pull off. They didn’t just carry eternal posts for the archipelago in the window of every store on every island.

“Great, more waiting for a ship to come by,” Zoro grumbled, draining most of the wineglass in one go.

They chatted a bit longer, with the cook and first mate also in attendance, and then broke up to go their own ways. Sanji offered to assist in the kitchen and this time was taken up on it, so he disappeared for a while even though Zoro simply went back to their cabin and laid down. He was dozing lightly when the cook came in, and cracked an eye open at the noise even though it was faint. Sanji did his best to not wake him, but after tugging his tie loose and hunting through the duffel for something, he noticed the eyes peering at him from the shadow of the lower bunk. “Am I interrupting anything?” he asked dryly.

Zoro gave a grunt in the negative. “Have fun in the kitchen?”

“A thrill a minute.” Sanji weighed his options for a moment, debating the merits of taking the lower bunk opposite or the upper bunk above where Zoro lay. Either way, he could look forward to sleeping alone, a prospect that seemed delightful at first but left him gradually wondering if that was what he really wanted. Shaking it off as a lingering effect from the island, he kicked off his shoes and threw himself into the opposite bunk. One of them would have to get up to douse the light, but for now, both just laid there across from each other, decompressing. Sanji mulled over his plans and strategies for a while, and turned to ask his crewmate’s opinion of some of them, but by then, Zoro had fallen fast asleep. _Great_ , Sanji complained to himself, _that’s some brilliant timing there._ In the end, he had to get up in order to extinguish the lamp, and stood in the darkness just sort of observing Zoro’s slumbering form before crawling back into bed and passing out himself.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fighting, a new island, and a change of fortunes. Also, fluff.

The second day was more of the same, with Zoro holding session out on the main deck for any sailors who desired to test themselves against him while Sanji prowled about the ship, chatted with the cook, and thought over a number of things. As pointless as he knew it would be, he kept trying to determine ways to possibly get to Marineford in the desperate hopes of being able to do something about Ace, whether or not Luffy somehow appeared there as well. Since reading that article, he had been worrying more about his crewmates – all of them, not just the girls and captain – and wondering where they might have been sent. But in the end, there was nothing he and Zoro could do about it, and stretching his mind to come up with potential scenarios was just making him feel worse about not being there for Luffy. He had to steer his thoughts back to their own predicament, and map out a plan of action for when they landed on Esme, presumably that afternoon if the weather continued to hold fair. Around midday, Sanji drifted out of the galley and climbed up to one of the upper decks to have a long look around and a smoke by himself, but he had barely gotten a match struck when he heard a voice calling out from the crow’s nest in alarm. He glanced up, and then out across the ocean. There was a ship heading towards them, blatantly flying black sails. Sanji gazed at it while he lit his cigarette and drew in a deep breath. _Small fries_ , he complained to himself. _Always have to go with the cliché, and then wonder why people spot them so easily._

Zoro suddenly appeared at his shoulder, also gazing at the oncoming ship off the starboard side. “Time to see if they can handle it.”

Sanji shot him a quick look, hearing the clink of a sword sliding home into its sheath. “You’re not going to run up and take care of it for them?”

“Why should I?” Zoro shrugged at him. “This isn’t our ship.”

“Yeah, but if it sinks, we’ll get wet.” Sanji was clearly in no hurry to rush into battle, either, as he stood there casually smoking.

“If they kill everyone else on board, then we’ll have to step in,” Zoro decided. “Until that point, it’s none of our business.”

Sanji eyeballed him and then turned his gaze back to the water. “It’s a test.”

Zoro grunted but said nothing one way or the other. The obvious pirate ship headed straight for them was still taking some time to catch up to them, giving the crew of the _Golden Lotus_ plenty of time to scramble around and prepare themselves. After the first volley of cannon-shot splashed harmlessly short of the attackers’ bow, the swordsman sniffed, “Don’t even think about jumping in to rescue the women, prince.”

“Then I’ll just kick your ass every time one of them so much as gets a bruise,” Sanji grumbled.

“They can handle it.” Zoro was certain, he stated it as a fact and not his opinion. The fact that he was standing there on the upper deck, arms folded and swords sheathed, meant he had enough faith in the crew to protect their ship. If either of the two pirates were to step in, it would negate the crew’s honor, and mean they weren’t strong enough in his eyes. Or so his logic went. Fortunately, Sanji understood him without needing any further explanation, and stood by to watch as well.

The pirate ship zoomed in at a good pace, catching the wind just right and managing to avoid all but one of the cannonballs. It didn’t seem to be inclined to shoot back, rather keeping a dead-ahead course and only losing a little of its momentum when a shot ripped through its mainsail. Neither Sanji nor Zoro recognized the skull and crossbones on the flag, meaning they were probably some small-time pirates with no name or reputation to themselves yet. Still, they knew how to chase down a supply ship, and looked like they were going to pass astern of the _Lotus_ and give her a volley of cannon fire from behind. But the crew showed their true colors then and there, as Captain Hardy barked out orders from the main deck below where the two Straw Hats stood. A couple of nimble sailors raced up past the pirates to the rear deck and yanked a canvas off something standing there, revealing a cannon mounted to the deck itself. Their enemies were close enough now that anyone watching could see them suddenly flail and attempt to veer aside before a cannonball tore through the ship’s flank. They were too late, though. The rear cannon roared, and the pirate ship rocked with the impact. Showers of seawater and splinters marked where the iron ball ripped a hole in her side, not low enough to sink it in one shot but enough to cripple her momentum and silence one of the cannons. Sanji and Zoro shared a look and raised eyebrows – that was a fairly impressive move on the part of the _Lotus_. But it was only just beginning, even they knew that.

Despite being damaged and finding it hard to maneuver, the pirate ship continued on around the supply ship and swung in close. They were done relying on cannons, it was going to be straight to boarding. Hardy was still calling out orders in a strident voice, and the crew swelled like a wave to rush forward and meet their foes head-on. Both crews had more than a few pistols among them, but the majority had swords, clubs, and fists. The clash of their meeting rang out across the ship, as pirates tumbled onto the forward deck and ran smack into the eager sailors. Even without Zoro fighting in their midst, they seemed to want to prove themselves to him, and fought extra-hard under his watchful eye. Just as the last of the boarding party touched down on-deck, Hardy gave a huge shout, and a couple of crew members yanked hard on the rigging. The boom sail swung hard and fast, making the entire ship lurch sideways as the sails caught the wind. The crew knew the signal and braced themselves, but most of the pirates flailed about and lost their footing as the _Lotus_ banked to the right – opening all the cannon hatches on the port side at once and unleashing a volley point-blank into the docked pirate ship. She was done for, and the few bits of crew manning her went into the sea before the shredded ship could suck them down with her. That meant all those pirates now on deck had nowhere to return to, and a cadre of sailors armed and ready before them. Their only choice was to attempt to overpower the crew and take the _Lotus_ for their own, but they had a lot of men to go through to get there. The captain even fought with them, rousing them with a barking laugh and exhortations to their courage. No mention was made of their passengers at all, in the end the crew was fighting for themselves and their dream ship, not for approval of any swordsman who may have been watching from on high.

Despite their agreement not to interfere, both men on the upper deck couldn’t help but feel the strain of having to hold themselves back. There was a hell of a fight going on, and bodies were starting to fall. Sanji leaned heavily on the railing, clenching his hands on the wood to keep himself from leaping over the deck and joining the melee. “They’re pretty fired up,” he noted.

Zoro remained motionless, unmoved, except for a few drops of sweat standing on his brow and neck from the stress of restraining himself. “They’ve got a lot to fight for. This ship is their treasure.”

“Those poor saps attacked the wrong ship, today,” Sanji smirked.

“Idiots,” Zoro agreed.

It quickly became clear that most of the fallen bodies belonged to pirates. Before too long some of them started leaping overboard to save themselves from being killed by the sailors, taking their chances with the sea instead. By the time the pirate ship fully sank, leaving just debris and crew bobbing in the waves, the sailors of the _Golden Lotus_ had successfully killed or driven off every last one of them, and stood back to cheer and taunt their attackers. Captain Hardy let them have a moment to exalt and then snapped out more orders, to get the ship underway again and tend to the wounded. Surprisingly, none of their boys had been killed, but a few were seriously injured and in desperate need of good care. Hearing that, Sanji finally sprang from his place, clearing multiple decks in a couple of good, strong leaps and running to assist. Zoro took the normal way down, and met the captain mid-deck while sailors ran to and fro around them. Hardy set hands on hips and grinned tiredly. “Almost forgot you were onboard somewhere. Did you have a good fight?”

Zoro flicked Wadou Ichimonji out a fraction with his thumb. “My blades are clean,” he declared. “I stayed out of it. Your crew did all this.”

The captain raised an eyebrow at that. “Huh. I never asked you do that, you know. You could have helped, we would have been glad for it.”

“Not today.” The sword settled back in comfortably, and Zoro rested an arm on it. “Anybody dead?”

“Not yet. Well, if you want to make yourself useful at all, heave some of these carcasses overboard.”

As distasteful as that might have been, Zoro silently went about helping with that unpleasant but necessary task. Sanji, meanwhile, helped carry a couple wounded sailors back to their bunks and then went to the galley to boil water for cleaning wounds and sterilizing bandages. While he was there, he stuck around to start a meal, knowing full well that the crew would suddenly realize their hunger once the adrenaline wore off, and having a hot, fresh meal waiting for them would lift their spirits. It was his duty, when the fighting was over, to see to this, and he went about it without being asked. Without asking the cook, as well, but no one was going to chase him out of the kitchen.

Suffering a pirate attack so close to port unfortunately put a delay on when the ship would actually arrive. Instead of the afternoon, now it would be evening by the time they sighted the island and made landfall, even after catching a good wind that carried them swiftly from the battle site. They simply had to deal with it, there was nothing more to be done for it, but at least that meant the injured sailors would get help quickly. Zoro and Sanji took the places of a couple of the wounded in order to help trim the sails and drop anchor, and then said a quick but grateful farewell to Hardy and the crew. They were not together long, but the pirates felt enormous appreciation for being rescued from the pink island and allowed to stay on board for the short journey. Really, if Sanji had known just how close the next inhabited island really was, he might have been even more despondent about being stuck there, but at least now he was safe and content. They had work to do, in order to get back to the others, so they said their good-byes to the wanna-be men of the _Lotus_ and disembarked, heading away from the harbor full of tall ships. As Hardy had said, Esme was a fully-settled island that served as a central hub for multiple trading and supply routes that criss-crossed the Grand Line. Pirates and adventurers may have tended to follow lock posts in linear routes from one end of the Red Line to the other, but many people lived their lives in the Grand Line and needed supplies that had to travel in directions other than west-to-east. Supply routes relying on eternal posts to guide them from one station to the next needed to converge somewhere, so the ships could trade cargo and get what they needed. Esme was one of those somewheres, a stone-paved city with an expansive harbor where ships of all sizes could dock safely. It was so late in the day when Zoro and Sanji began their exploration of the place that most of the offices for the various ships and routes were already closed, so they couldn’t go straight to asking after a ship headed in the direction of Sabaody. It was east of them, that was all they knew from Hardy – but north or south, that they didn’t know. They walked along the row of supply offices and noted the lack of options with disgruntled frowns. “Damn pirates wasting our time,” Sanji growled. “We’re too late. We’ll have to get a room for the night and try in the morning.”

“Do we have the money for something like that?” Zoro wondered.

“Well, it won’t be a luxury hotel,” Sanji snapped. “I might have just enough. I shorted the cargo delivery a few beli, either they didn’t notice or Captain Hardy didn’t care.”

“Let me guess. That was before they said they were actually women?” Zoro found this immensely amusing, moreso because Sanji flushed and snarled at him in response. Despite being dumped off on another new island with only the cook for company, Zoro was in decent spirits, calm and quiet and interested mostly in finding a bar before a hotel. “Why don’t we go back to the ship and ask them to let us crash there one more night? They’re staying docked a few days anyway.”

“We’ve imposed on them enough,” Sanji argued. “Besides, I don’t want to go slinking back like a beggar. We can take care of ourselves.”

Zoro raised an eyebrow a little at his sudden streak of pride, but said nothing further. He didn’t care one way or the other, he would sleep anywhere they found themselves, even a corner stool in a bar after everyone else had passed out or gone home. As they walked, he glanced aside and noticed that there were a number of identical posters splashed along the stone walls of the buildings and courtyards of the island city. That caught his attention – they were all the same poster for the same thing, but put up everywhere so that no one who lived on or visited Esme could possibly miss the advertisement. He stopped to read one, forcing Sanji to backtrack and rejoin him after a few steps. “Oi, don’t get left behind, marimo,” the cook said blandly. “What are you doing?”

Zoro had read the poster a couple of times to be sure it said what he thought it said. As Sanji came up beside him, he prodded it with a finger. “This might be a way for us to get money.”

“Huh?” Sanji read the poster as well, his eyes widening. “A tournament?”

Even though he didn’t need to, Zoro read the poster aloud. “’Annual Esme Street Festival and Fighting Tournament. Fighters of all kinds encouraged to enter. Grand prize, one hundred thousand beli.’” He whistled low. “That’s not bad, for a little out-of-the-way place I’ve never heard of.”

Sanji rubbed the back of his neck and looked around. The street was fairly lively for this time of day, plenty of people still coming and going and meeting and talking happily. It definitely carried the air of anticipation before a festival. “So that’s what all the hubbub is about. A fighting tournament going on with a festival, though...that’s unusual.”

“So what? It’s fighting. Something both of us know how to do.” Zoro looked at him with a determined glint in his dark eyes. “We’ll win that prize money for certain.”

“You go right ahead.” Sanji waved a hand dismissively and turned to continue on up the street. “I don’t give a shit about fighting tournaments. I’m not interested in proving myself.”

Zoro scowled at his back, and then tore the poster down to take with him as he caught up. “Not even for the money?”

“So you do it. Be my guest.” Sanji cocked him a sideways look. “I’m not interested.”

“We’d have a better chance if both of us were in it. Two instead of one.”

“What’s the matter, doubting your ability to win after all?”

Zoro peered at him. “I thought it would be smarter if we upped our chances.”

“Generally speaking, it usually is.” Sanji stuffed his hands in his pockets and breezed on up the street, keeping one eye out for a low-rent inn or boarding room, as well as a shop where he could buy fresh cigarettes. “But what kind of field of competitors would a place like this scare up? You’ll hardly break a sweat, and then you’ll be complaining to me all the next day about how it wasn’t worth the challenge.”

While this was true, Zoro shrugged it off. “I’m still going to enter.”

“Fine.” Sanji literally did not care, competitions were not his favorite way of proving his prowess in anything. “What else does it say about this tournament?”

Zoro scanned the small print at the bottom of the poster that regarded the tournament specifically, as opposed to the big splashy words about the street festival also going on in conjunction with it. “Elimination-style, weapons allowed, oh…brutal combat. Nice. Registration is at the site in the morning. Ah. Apparently, the winner also gets a free night’s stay at some super-fancy hotel.”

“Really?” Sanji’s eyebrow curled curiously again. “That’s strange. Not a bad prize, though.”

They were reaching the section of the city where places to board could generally be found, but as they went, they found that nearly all of them were full or booked solid. After the third or fourth one telling them they had no vacancies, Sanji demanded to know what the deal was. “Why, the Festival!” the proprietor bragged. “Don’t tell me you don’t know about that?”

“We heard about it,” Sanji said curtly. “What’s the big deal about it?”

“You mean, you didn’t come to Esme for the Festival?” The proprietor seemed genuinely shocked by that. “It happens every year! People come from all the neighboring islands to watch the tournament and enjoy the food and the street dance. Just about every inn on the island is full up for the next three nights.”

“Wonderful,” Sanji sighed grouchily. “So there’s no chance of getting a room anywhere, just for tonight?”

“You can keep looking, but your chances are gonna be pretty slim,” the proprietor chuckled. “Good luck – you’re gonna need it!”

“What if we’re going to compete in the tournament?” Zoro interjected sternly.

The man tossed up his hands. “Sorry, but I really don’t have any empty rooms. You might try mentioning that, though, the next places you try. If somebody does have a room, they’re more likely to give it to a fighter.” He leered a bit at Zoro. “Are you, really?”

Zoro’s hand clenched on the hilt of Shuusui by his side. “I don’t carry these just for show.”

“Ooo...” The proprietor nodded. “Give it a shot, then. It can’t hurt!”

It took two more stops before they found one that had a room left, and they were indeed willing to give it to a fighter – though they almost charged the pair triple its worth until Zoro showed them that he really was serious about the tournament and could back up his threats. The innkeeper really didn’t want his place carved to ribbons, so he let them have the room for normal price. That took most of their remaining pocket change, though, so they didn’t have enough left to go out to get food _and_ supply their vices. Fortunately, Sanji had been given the go-ahead to take a few things from the galley before they disembarked, so they made a cold meal out of leftovers, bread and cheese and cold meat. He had picked up a pack of cigarettes along the way, at least. Zoro really wanted a good, stiff drink, though, so he took the last few beli and went downstairs to the tavern attached to the inn while Sanji remained in their room, smoking and thinking some more. At least their room had two separate beds – smallish, but separate. A momentary flash of regret for that situation made him frown to himself; he shouldn’t still be feeling that. They were two days away from the okama’s island, he should be over his irrational desires. In fact, he could see advantages to sticking around an extra day or two for this tournament and festival – Sanji could pick up women, and comfort himself after being in that hell of only men. He told himself it was the best idea, and while Zoro was out there earning them the prize money, he would look forward to dancing the night away with the local ladies and leaving them swooning in the morning.

Zoro returned to the room after an hour or two, and silently went about setting his swords aside close to the bed he had chosen as his. Sanji was sprawled on the other, arms tucked behind his head. “Happy, now?” he wondered.

“Eh.” Zoro straightened up and stood regarding him from the middle of the small room. “Found out some useful information about this fighting tournament. It’s a serious affair, apparently it’s common and even expected for the losers to be killed.”

“Oh?” Sanji sat up, in order to stub out his cigarette on the nightstand between the two beds. “I guess that means you don’t have to hold yourself back at all.”

Zoro grinned recklessly. “That’s right. I don’t.”

“You’d better win, then. Not to stay alive, but because you just spent our last beli on booze.” Sanji eyed him. “We need that prize money to get us off _this_ island.”

“How do you figure?” Zoro prowled closer to his bed, shoulders thrown back confidently.

“The odds of finding a ship we can take and manage ourselves, along with an eternal post for Sabaody, are s...oi! What do you think you’re doing?”

Halfway through his rant, Zoro suddenly hopped onto the bed and on top of him, swinging a leg over him and straddling his thighs. The movement was swift enough to trap Sanji and prevent him from using his powerful legs, and completely unexpected. Zoro still wore that dangerous grin, though he made no further move than that for now. “Not asking your permission,” he replied in a low, throaty tone.

Sanji sat glaring at him from under his bangs, both hands braced on the bed behind him. “Get off me, assface,” he growled. “We’re not playing this game anymore.”

“Oh yeah?” The grin narrowed into a sly smirk. “Then why did your heartbeat speed up all of a sudden?”

Sanji nearly choked on his protest. “Be...because you startled me and pissed me off!”

“So why are you blushing, too?”

That, Sanji had no answer for, so with a strangled snarl he gritted his teeth and didn’t even try. Zoro still sat on him with his hands resting loosely in his lap, not pushing the issue but not getting up either. When he could control his breathing and try to force himself not to flush red, Sanji muttered, “Are you drunk?”

“We didn’t have enough beli to get me drunk.” The swordsman only had two drinks, which barely got him relaxed. It would take at least five more for him to be anywhere near tipsy. He leaned forward, resting his hands on the bed on either side of Sanji’s hips, and smirked when Sanji didn’t lean back far enough to truly avoid him. Not that he had a lot of options, but still. “You mean to tell me you’re not the least bit restless, cook?”

“Not for you...” As much as he wanted to declare himself officially past the events on the last island, Sanji found himself remembering the heated touch of lips against his, the rich, musky scent of his comrade’s skin and the feel of his sword-callused hands all over his body. Against his better judgment, he remembered and wanted again. But pride kept him from accepting the offer, and even as Zoro leaned in to kiss him, Sanji turned his head away. “…don’t,” he said in a warning tone.

“Why not?” Zoro’s voice was close to his ear, deep and quiet. “You want to.”

Sanji only let him see the swath of hair covering the left side of his face. “Get off. Stop telling me what I want, you don’t know.”

“I know it wasn’t that island doing anything to us.” Zoro withdrew a bit, though he didn’t get up. “It’s too late, you know. We’ve already opened a door that can’t be closed.”

Sanji’s lips curled into a scowl, as he studiously kept his gaze facing away. “Can’t you take no for an answer? What are you going to do, _force_ me to see that I’m just denying something you want?”

Offended, Zoro glared hard at him and then got off as swiftly as he had climbed on. “Fuck you,” he breathed, “if you think I’m really like that.”

“Then stop being so damn pushy and leave it alone!” Sanji finally turned his head back in order to glare in turn at Zoro’s back. “We’re not going to do this, we’re _just_ crewmates and that’s it! I’m not into men and I’m _definitely_ not into you!”

As he stood there slowly cooling off, Zoro gave a derisive sniff. “That’s not how I remember it,” he said in that low tone from before. “I’m pretty sure you were the one who said, ‘you win.’”

“That doesn’t mean anything.” Sanji got to his feet in order to face him eye to eye, feeling more confident when they were matched in height and arguing on equal ground. “I only did it because you were the only option available! Now we’re back on a normal island with real women, I don’t need you.”

“So go get one.” Zoro turned to face him squarely, folding his arms. “I’m pretty sure there were a couple ‘escorts’ hanging around the tavern. Maybe they’ll take your charm in place of money, prince.”

“I’m not going to _pay_ for it!” Sanji respected women, that meant not demeaning them by catering to the ancient profession. That, and he was too proud to stoop to that level – if he couldn’t get a woman with his natural abilities, his wit and charm and looks alone, then paying for company was cheating. “I’ll get a woman on my own time, I don’t need your stupid suggestions!”

Zoro’s hand shot out and grabbed him by the front of the shirt, pulling him closer. But he just stood there and stared at Sanji, his dark eyes hard. It was an unnerving look, like he was looking through the cook’s bullshit to his soul beneath. Sanji caught his breath and stared back, feeling the flush creep up his neck into his cheeks again. He wasn’t going to let it get to him, he was going to hold his ground this time. He reached and grabbed a matching hand-hold on Zoro’s shirt, taking a step closer. Zoro likewise held his ground, saying nothing, just gazing at him in silent challenge. They held that position for the longest time, until their fists eased and Sanji gave a quiet growl of frustration under his breath. Zoro lowered his eyes slightly. “Just do something already,” he breathed. “Hit me or kiss me, one of the two, I don’t care but just do it!”

Snarling, Sanji lunged and kissed him hard, unable to stop himself. There was a faint jingle of earrings as Zoro’s head turned to meet him, his hand easing off Sanji’s shirt and sliding up his neck into his hair instead. This time, the swordsman yielded control, passively allowing his comrade to kiss him as he liked, parting his lips and accepting the intrusion of a forceful tongue. Sanji broke off quickly, though, coming to his senses much more quickly than in the past. “What the hell am I doing?” he hissed. “Shit...”

“Does it matter?” Zoro kept a hand on the back of his neck to keep him from pulling away. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Some part of Sanji wanted desperately to shove him back, kick him, do anything to distance them from one another, but he couldn’t. No matter how much his rational mind screamed in protest, his body wouldn’t listen. His heart rate was indeed faster, his breathing heavier, his face warmer. This was the most he’d been touched and kissed in ages, and he couldn’t fight it. He already had Zoro’s word that none of this would ever get back to the crew, it was their secret. But he didn’t want to just give in, either. He had to fight to the last. He covered his face with a hand, managing to shoulder his way out of Zoro’s grip and turn away. That hand combed backwards through his hair as he sighed and regained his composure, not wanting to be a slave to his hedonistic side for the moment. “I don’t care if it feels good,” he murmured angrily, “I’m not going to...”

Zoro grinned. “So you admit it does.”

Sanji clapped both hands to his forehead in frustration. “That wasn’t what I meant! Shut up!”

“Fine.” Zoro abruptly gave up with a shrug and turned to go sprawl out on his bed. “Whatever, I don’t care. I’m too tired to put in all this effort anyway.”

Sanji whirled back towards him to find him retreating. That did beg the question of why Zoro was putting effort into seducing him at all, a thought which made him lose any sense of balance he still had. At least he was free, now, not being sat on or grabbed or held, so he could do as he pleased. He set about changing for bed, unbuttoning his shirt and emptying his pockets. At that point, he stood rubbing the back of his neck for a thoughtful moment and then shot a furtive glance over his shoulder at his comrade. Zoro was already reclined on his back with his arms tucked under his head, staring mostly at the ceiling – though he caught the glance and fought back a smirk. Huffing, Sanji averted his gaze and set his hands on his hips. “How are your wounds doing?” he asked sullenly.

“Hmm...” Zoro sat back up, scratching idly at one of the spots beneath his shirt where the bandages still stretched across his chest. “Dunno. Should probably check them.”

“May as well.” Sanji shifted around to go and help him with that, as if to prove to himself that he could go around shirtless and not give in to baser temptations. If they could carry out this mundane task without too much groping, he would feel much better about his sense of self-control. He stood aside while Zoro peeled off his shirt, and then stepped closer to unwrap the bandages and have a good look. The room was dim at that late hour, so he pulled the lamp closer and demanded that Zoro move closer to the light so he could make a proper inspection. All the lacerations were more than closed, and the bruises had definitely healed. “Eh. You can probably leave the bandages off, now,” Sanji said after a bit. “Chopper might say differently if he were here, but it looks fine enough to me.”

“They’ll just get in the way tomorrow anyway,” Zoro muttered. “I need room to stretch when I fight.”

“Hmph. Don’t get yourself cut up all over again, or it’ll be back to the wrapped-up look for you.” Sanji brushed his hand over Zoro’s right shoulder, satisfied when he didn’t flinch at all. Whatever lingering injuries he had from their recent battles, they weren’t painful enough to bother him. Dark eyes lifted to his face, giving him a placid look he found difficult to resist. Sanji tested it by pushing that hand against Zoro’s chest with barely any pressure, and lowered his gaze to follow when Zoro laid back on the bed in response. “Shit,” the cook sighed. “Why am I even thinking this?”

“You keep asking these stupid questions,” Zoro noted. “Just do what you want.”

Sanji stood gazing at him a few moments longer, not sure what he wanted. At least he was done talking himself into or out of anything; he just needed to decide, and he would act. In that time, Zoro tired of waiting for him and sat back up, scratching the back of his neck idly. The movement roused Sanji from his thoughts, driving him to step forward and settle himself astride the swordsman’s lap. Strong arms wrapped around his waist, holding him in place. The lamplight gleamed in his blond hair and left his face in shadow, except for the glint of his visible eye as he tilted his head down to regard Zoro’s face. Without a word, he bent to kiss the other man, insinuating himself as the dominant one by virtue of being seated slightly higher. Zoro accepted it, breathing a soft, low moan into the kiss as warm hands came to rest on the back of his neck. He remembered this, the slow and sensuous way the cook liked to kiss, and parted his lips in surrender to it. Fingers brushed along his neck, setting the earrings jingling again. They kissed for quite a while, tongues tangling, hands roaming, but Sanji never pushed for more than that. He was satisfied with this, being worshipped and explored, touched and kissed, with the rough hands on his bare back and the feel of short, coarse hair tickling his palm. The warm, musky taste of Zoro’s mouth bore a hint of bitterness, he could tell the man had been drinking whiskey downstairs. And he was learning – he wasn’t battling back with sloppy eagerness, he actually matched Sanji’s patient pace and nibbled gently at his lips in turn. When they finally broke off, Sanji kept his eyes closed, content to let his other senses fill him in on the aftermath. He felt Zoro’s heated breath on his wet lips, heard him sigh and sensed the movement of his face close to his own. He draped his arms lazily over Zoro’s shoulders and lowered his head to rest against his crewmate’s neck, breathing a content sigh. Lips glanced across his collarbone in turn, and Zoro’s arms relaxed around his waist again. “There,” Sanji murmured, resting his scruffy chin on Zoro’s shoulder. “I did what I wanted.”

“That’s all?” Zoro’s voice was equally quiet. Despite their past insistences that this was all just for fun, the mood between them was rather thoughtful and peaceful. “Nothing else, then.”

“I’m too tired.” Sanji raised his head and peered at his comrade. “How come you’re so damn horny all the time, all of a sudden?”

The reckless grin was a shade more subdued than usual, but it was still Zoro’s typical infuriatingly smug grin. “I don’t know. Opportunity?” He shrugged slightly, not about to believe that this was, in any way, a bad thing. “It’s been a damn long time for me, too, you know. Well...it was, up until the other day.”

“And now that you’ve got a taste, you can’t restrain yourself,” Sanji noted. “Figures. You’re no super-self-controlled zen swordsman, you’re just like all the rest of us.”

“I never said I was.” Zoro gazed coolly up at him. “I’m a man who lives by his instincts. Some things don’t require as much thinking as you’ve been doing about it.”

Sanji’s lips twitched in a suppressed frown. That, at least, gave him a good opportunity to extract himself and find his feet again, sliding gracefully off Zoro’s thighs as if dismounting a horse. Zoro let him go. “I said I was tired, and I mean it. Go to sleep, dumbass, so you can fight tomorrow.”

There really wasn’t any argument to that. Zoro was looking forward to testing his healing body with this tournament, and so sprawled out and wormed under the blankets. He was asleep almost instantly. Sanji finished changing, glanced at him, and shook his head before dousing the lamps and flopping in his own bed to sleep.

 

There wasn’t much to be said about breakfast, or checking out of the inn early in the morning. Zoro was keen on getting to the sign-ups as quickly as he could, but Sanji needed to navigate the way and carry their luggage at the same time. The sky was looking a little blustery that morning, with lower gray clouds coming and going across a paler blue than usual, but no one seemed concerned about rain. The streets were already filling with people eagerly heading toward the site of the tournament to spectate, Sanji noted, so he grabbed his companion and steered him along into the traffic flow. They blended in with the crowds of civilians and sailors, attracting no attention whatsoever. It seemed that this annual street festival with its tournament really was a big deal after all, for it had its own stadium built near another set of piers on the opposite end of the island from the main harbor. A tall ship with its sails all furled was anchored there, the tips of its masts just visible over the rim of the stone walls of the stadium. Most of the foot traffic was headed around to the main entrance, but signs pointed the way to where fighters could sign up. Sanji went with Zoro just to see it all for himself, though he stood back smoking while his comrade actually went through the process. They just needed a name, and a signature on a waiver that stated no fighter nor their next of kin would hold the tournament responsible for cases of permanent maiming or death. With that out of the way, the fat man with the moustache taking registrants pinned a sash with a number written on it to Zoro’s right arm and told him where to meet up to begin. The swordsman waved to show he understood and went to consult his crewmate before actually going to do so. Sanji raised an eyebrow at him. “He seemed rather eager to welcome you to the tournament,” he noted. “Did he catch on who you are?”

“Didn’t seem that way,” Zoro replied casually. “He was on about never seeing anyone use three swords before. Guess I’m gonna give ‘em a real show today.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t get your ass killed.” Sanji turned and started off toward the main entrance of the stadium. “I’m off to find a good seat for the bloodbath. Have fun. If you make it through the first round, I’ll come check on you at the break.”

Zoro bristled, but his companion was gone before he could make some kind of retort. He was left to slink away to the fighters’ meeting area, grumbling under his breath about not being trusted to stay alive through a stupid tournament.

With the duffel slung over his shoulder and his other hand in a pocket, Sanji made his way around the stadium to the spectator entrance. Fortunately, there was no admission fee to watch the fights, but there were vendors around selling food. His stomach growled a little, but he consoled himself with the thought that by dinnertime, they would be rolling in so much beli that he could have the biggest meal he could stand at the best restaurant on the island. The stadium was small, but for a single event once a year, not too shabby, with tiers of stone rising upward from the center to serve as seating, and a wide dirt floor below with the actual combat ring roped off in the center. People were still in the process of filing in and taking seats, so Sanji quietly mingled among them and found an unoccupied spot about halfway up, near an exit. He slouched down onto the stone bench, set the bag beside him, and leaned back to finish his smoke. A few feet away, a couple of middle-aged women with plump, matronly faces were herding a few children around, chattering away eagerly with each other while they set out blankets for the kids to sit on and unpacked a basket that held nothing short of a picnic feast. Sanji regarded them for a moment, and then subtly had a glance around to see if this was normal. In fact, it was. Most of the locals seemed to be making a big party out of it, some of the richer-looking types were toasting with wine and the tourists were eagerly bringing in food they had purchased from the vendors below. It was a curious sight. Sanji relaxed and let his gaze travel down to the stadium floor and the ring, determining the exits and smartest routes just in case, like he always did. He even noted the speaker pole with the den-den mushi strapped atop it, for broadcasting, and assumed that the small booth a quarter of the way around the stadium from where he sat was where the officials would sit and bark out play-by-plays or something. It was all rather fascinating, though he kept his reaction off his face.

It seemed to be taking forever for people to gather and the tournament to actually start. At least a half an hour after he gained his seat, Sanji became aware that the collection of families to his right had expanded, there were now burly harbor workers with beers sitting with their wives and laughing brashly about the prospects for the matches today. Sanji listened to some of their talk, trying to gauge information, giving them a sidelong glance. He must have been noticed, because one of the women leaned over to him. “Well, you must be a visitor, haven’t seen you ‘round here before! Is this your first tournament?”

Sanji looked more fully toward her. “Hmm? Oh, uh...yeah, you could say that. Just came to the island last night. Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Oh, you’re going to have such a good time,” the woman enthused. “They’ve brought in some real tough ones this year. It should be quite a show! Oh – are you hungry? Would you like one of my damper rolls? Fresh baked this morning!”

She held out a basket filled with thick, yeasty bread rolls. Sanji waved his hand demurely. “Oh, no, I couldn’t...”

“No, I insist! I baked more than enough for everybody to share. Come on, try one!”

Sanji knew his manners. One denial was polite, and then he was free to accept freely-offered food. “Well, all right, I suppose I can’t say no to a woman,” he said suavely, leaning over to pluck one of the rolls from the basket. It smelled like breakfast, and was even still a tiny bit warm inside. “Thank you, madam.”

“That’s what Esme is all about!” the woman bragged, clearly flattered by his gentlemanly manners. Thank goodness her husband wasn’t paying attention. “Hospitality and free trade. Do something nice for someone before you leave the island on your journey, sir, and I’ll consider it paid for.”

Sanji had to wait until he had swallowed a mouthful before responding. It really was good, the kind of simple fare that simple folk knew how to make well. “Don’t worry, that’ll be easy.” Since she was clearly a chatty mother, he figured she would be his best source for information. He played it casual, though, nibbling at the bread before composing another question. “I heard this tournament was well-known, but I had no idea it was _this_ big,” he began. “What’s the appeal?”

“Well, it’s not everywhere that you get to watch public executions,” the woman said smartly with a wag of her finger. “Maybe it’s not like the ones at Marineford for famous pirates, but there are other criminals in the world, too.”

Though he tried not to stare, Sanji’s eye widened considerably. “Public executions?” he breathed in surprise.

“That’s right.” The woman’s husband heard their chat at last and leaned over, looking already well into his cups. “Every year they clear out some of the ones that aren’t so famous but still have to be put to death by shipping them here, letting them fight to the death. They probably think that if they win they’ll be set free,” he added with a leer, “but that hasn’t happened in, oh, a good twenty years or so. Gives ‘em a reason to actually fight, though, and not just stand there.”

Sanji controlled his shock and merely regarded the pair with a keen eye. “But it’s not all criminals fighting, is it? What about the people who’ve signed up to fight?”

“Well, you don’t sign up if you don’t think you’re good enough to beat a bunch of prison toughs,” the woman laughed. “They should know what they’re getting into. And if they don’t, well, let’s hope they can fight, eh?” Both she and her husband cackled at that. Sanji slouched back down and finished his bread, mulling over this information and whether to let Zoro know. It was possible the officials warned the fighters before going into the ring, but if not...well, his comrade had been a bounty hunter. This really wasn’t all that much different.

At last, a couple of men wearing bright yellow sashes came out and sat at the table in the booth, and the den-den mushi hummed to life. The tournament was finally beginning. Sanji listened idly to the opening spiel and message from the mayor of Esme, though he was mainly watching the floor below. A couple of marshals came out to man the ring, but no combatants as of yet. Clearly, they were being kept somewhere behind the oaken doors at either end of the stadium until their time to fight. The only contestant they made a big deal about was some kind of local legend, a bartender who apparently not only fought every year but was an immense crowd favorite, judging by the response from the stands. The first round was introduced, but Zoro was not up immediately, so Sanji sat back and observed with a cold tactician’s eye, wondering at the fact that the other fighters were not out to view this match. Each round would be fresh, a surprise to the combatants who lacked the benefit of seeing who moved on from each fight, how they battled and what their weapon of choice might be. The first pair, definitely both criminals, were going at it hand-to-hand until knives came out. Then blood was spilt, and the audience roared. Both left the ring alive, but one of them probably wouldn’t remain so for very long – obviously the loser. The second round went much the same, only with less blood and more bruising to determine the outcome. Zoro’s match came up third, at which point Sanji sat up a bit to take note.

The grizzled man facing him across the ring at least had something of a match in weaponry, he was carrying a curved cutlass. Zoro eyed him keenly from his side, resting his elbow on Wadou Ichimonji’s hilt. The sun, playing chase with the clouds, manage to sneak out and play weakly across the back of his neck and the steel of his opponent’s blade. Even from a distance, Sanji could see that this was a ridiculously one-sided match. All that mattered was how long Zoro felt like stringing it out before dealing the winning hit. The crowd seemed to like fights that went on for a little bit, but too long and they might start chanting for blood. The convict charged with a huge, wild swing, and Zoro barely shifted a step as his left hand tugged Shuusui free and raised it to block almost effortlessly. He never bothered to unsheathe a second sword for this fight, disappointing the crowd by ending it far too early for their tastes and without spectacular flair. But Sanji knew just how much talent it took for him to make it look so easy. A less skilled fighter would still obliterate the cutlass-wielding convict, but in a very messy fashion. Zoro deftly avoided any of the erratic, heavy-handed swings and just made two small cuts while in close that did the job. When the crowd made a collective noise of complaint, he glared over his shoulder at them and made a show of flicking the blood off his blade before sheathing it. His opponent collapsed a second later, and a pool of blood began to seep out into the dirt beneath him. That, at least, got the audience cheering again, and the officials in the booth declared Zoro the winner.

The tournament continued through the rest of the first-round fights before finally taking the first break, at which point Sanji decided to make an attempt to get back to trade a few words with his crewmate. As much as he probably could have trusted the family next to him to watch his baggage while he did, he instinctively needed not to let it out of his sight. Already on a fresh cigarette, he slung the bag over his shoulder and drifted off like an elegant shadow through the exit, down the stairs, and among the spectators coming and going. Many were getting food or drink, or lining up for lavatories, so he cut through them all and went around to the side entrance where Zoro had signed up that morning. There were a couple of stern-looking guards at the gate looking rather unlikely to let him pass, so Sanji paused behind a pillar to retrieve a tie from the bag and swiftly knot it around his collar. He strutted right up to the gate and regarded the two men with a cool eye. “Ah, there you are. I was wondering if you might allow me a word with my client.”

Both gate guards stared suspiciously down at him. They wore matching scarves with the island’s flag emblem embroidered on a corner, suggesting they might have been part of local law enforcement. One, fortunately, was smarter than the other. “Your client?” he repeated suspiciously.

“Yes, I have a fighter signed up in the tournament today,” Sanji said breezily, straightening his tie. “I’m his agent, he’s a prize fighter I take around and enter in any little events like this for the money. Roronoa Zoro is the name he’s using today. Go and get him, I need a word with him.”

The guards eyed him, then each other, and the smarter one shrugged. “Fine. Wait here, I’ll fetch him. Roronoa, you say?” He thought about it, shook his head with a snort, and disappeared into the back halls of the stadium.

Sanji waited there with his shoulders thrown back and chin up haughtily, playing the part a little too well. Well enough, anyway, that when Zoro appeared with the guard after a minute or two, he was wearing the most disgruntled scowl at having to put up with this story. “You called, _boss?_ ” he said with a snide emphasis.

“Ah, yes. Walk with me a minute, would you? We need to have a talk about your performance so far. If you want to win, you’re going to have to step it up a notch.” Sanji gestured for Zoro to come with him, though he only stepped far enough away that the two guards wouldn’t overhear their conference. He turned his back to the gate and let Zoro come around him, only then dropping some of the façade and putting on a more serious look. “So. Did they tell you what this tournament is really about?”

“Executing criminals.” Zoro’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, of course they did. What, did you come all the way over here and make up that bullshit story about being my _agent_ just to tell me that? I already know.”

“I wanted to be sure.” Sanji’s expression didn’t change. “I haven’t seen much, if any, of a Marine presence on this island, but if they’re importing convicts from somewhere, it has to have a government seal of approval. Even if it isn’t from Impel Down.”

“Nah, these guys are just small fries,” Zoro said boredly. “Mostly murderers and the like, the kind who get sentenced to death easily. Only one of ‘em is a pirate, or so they said. I’m not in any danger, so you can stop worrying your pretty little head over me.”

Sanji gave him a deadpan look, not appreciating that tone. “Who said I was worried? I could have stayed all comfortable in my nice seat and just let you go on fighting. You should be flattered I took the time to bother.”

Zoro grinned and waved a hand dismissively. “You wish, I saw those stadium seats. It’s just flat stone, probably cold on your skinny ass.” He laughed to himself, and then sobered just enough. “I’ve got this. Go on back and put your feet up, watch the show. I’ve had a good look at all of the competition, I know what I’m up against.”

“You can’t see the fights from where you are, can you?”

“No. But I don’t need to see a man fight to know whether or not I can beat him.”

“Spoken like a true meathead.” Sanji sighed around his cigarette and shrugged. “Fine, fine. I just wanted to give you a heads-up, but the rest is in your hands.”

“You got anything else to eat on you?”

The deadpan look returned. “You spent the last of our beli on booze last night.”

“I didn’t ask you if you had money for food!” Zoro bristled.

“The answer’s no – we finished off the last of it this morning.” Sanji chose not to mention the nibble of breakfast bread he had gotten – it was just bread, after all. “What, they’re not giving you any extra perks for fighting, like lunch?”

“No.” Zoro heaved an over-dramatic sigh. “Guess I’ll just have to wait until after I clean up that prize money.”

“All the more reason to just put your head down and keep fighting.” Sanji’s lips twisted in thought. “It’s a little weird. These people, they all brought picnics and are eager for the slaughter. They’re really into the death and gore, even though they seem to be real nice, normal, cheerful townspeople.”

“I ain’t in this for them,” Zoro declared. “I’m in it for me, and for our journey back to the crew. I don’t give a shit about the executions, either. If somebody _doesn’t_ come at me with killing intent then I’ll return the favor, but I’m not going to suddenly grow morals now.”

Sanji peered at him. “Just how much do the criminals know?”

Zoro met his gaze. “They’ve been told they’re here to fight for their freedom. The official guy said, if any of them makes it all the way to the top, he gets to go free. But there’s this brawny guy in the back with me, one of the locals who fights for the sake of fighting. He told me all about the executions, and how no one’s gone free in twenty years.”

“Hell of a tradition.” Sanji rolled his shoulders, no longer feeling quite the urgent concern. Zoro seemed to be more or less up on things. “I think it’s pretty stupid, myself, but we do really need that prize money.”

“You’re still going to watch the rest, right?” Zoro started to grin again. “Or are your delicate sensibilities offended by this style of execution.”

Sanji glared him down. “I’ll show you delicate, c’mere and I’ll rip your balls off.”

“If you do that, what are you gonna play with later tonight?” Zoro snickered at the flustered spluttering he got in response, or perhaps it was the accompanying blush. “Save it. Go back to your damn seat, cook, I’m fine.”

“You’d better be,” Sanji growled, steeling himself to calm down so no one would notice his blush. “Stay alert. Just because I haven’t seen any Marines yet doesn’t mean there aren’t any on this island.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m alert enough – a couple of the prisoners already got into a scuffle backstage, killed each other before they could even go on.” Zoro seemed completely unruffled by that. “That’s why they took this break, to clean up. Anything’s possible today. The outcome may be certain, but what happens between now and then is what’s going to be fun to find out.”

“Whatever.” Sanji tossed his head to indicate that he was done and Zoro could go back where he needed to be. The gate guards stepped aside to let him, and the cook wandered back out to the stadium seating. Fortunately, no one had stolen his choice of seat while he was away, so he sat back down and stretched out his long legs, sitting for a while with his hands in his pockets just sort of absently gazing down at the ring while he smoked. Giving criminals a so-called fighting chance, sending them to die for one island’s entertainment; Sanji couldn’t decide whether this was more or less cruel than sending them to Impel Down to rot for eternity and die alone in the horrific darkness said to exist there. Either way, it was the sort of cruelty he fully expected from the World Government, just one more reason for pirates like him, and like Luffy, to stand opposed to them.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion of the tournament and some private time together.

Very shortly after Sanji sat back down, the fights resumed with the winners of the last round going on to face each other elimination-style. Zoro’s next match was the second one, and this time he faced a quick and stealthy martial artist-type said to have been an assassin. The officials offering announcements and color commentary had all the details of each convict’s criminal background and the judgments which put their heads on the chopping block, and regaled the audience with them as a means of pumping up the excitement and getting them eagerly cheering for the criminals’ demise. Sanji sat watching and made no sound, only occasionally wrinkling his nose at the most blatant pandering from the announcer. Since Zoro was a first-time fighter, that was all they could say about him, but it made him one of the underdogs to cheer for. He actually took a couple of punches this time, as the assassin danced around him, but Zoro hadn’t fought against the agents of CP9 for nothing. Sanji could almost see the annoyance creeping onto his comrade’s face as he watched the assassin’s antics and plotted his counter-moves, comparing this amateur to the government special forces who actually gave them a decent challenge. Zoro pulled out a second sword and toyed with his opponent for a bit before finally just ending it, using one of his more efficient moves that actually looked pretty good to those watching. The announcer cried something about wagers being placed on this young newcomer, to which Sanji rolled his eyes. Of course there would be betting, in addition to everything else, but it didn’t open until the second round after everyone had a chance to look at the fighters, like chefs inspecting a fresh catch of fish before deciding which ones to take home for dinner. It occurred to him, then, that he might not have actually spent all their beli. There could be a tiny bit left. He wrestled the duffel bag around onto the floor between his feet and began rummaging around in it, looking for another pair of pants he had packed. Sure enough, it was the remnants of his pocket change from Sabaody, which he had taken out of his tobacco pouch after raiding the okama’s houses for food and not paying for any. He could have gotten some lunch with it, but he had an idea. There were bookies walking among the seats taking bets right on the fly, so Sanji raised his hand to flag one down and put all the rest of his money, a pitiful amount, on Zoro to win it all. The bookie laughed at him for putting all his eggs in one basket, particularly that of a newcomer who didn’t seem to know anything about tournament fighting. Sanji played down his reason for taking such long odds, but inwardly felt a swell of smugness rise in his chest. That bookie would eat his words by the end of the day.

Some of the second round fights lasted much longer than the first, and more than one became considerably bloodier. Any time two of the convicts were pitted against each other, they fought like caged animals for the chance to be free. The local hero and Zoro weren’t the only volunteer fighters in the tournament, and in fact, more of them were advancing than the criminals, perhaps precisely because the latter’s desperation made them poorer fighters after all. It really was an ingenious and cruel method of conducting executions, though both Sanji and Zoro in their respective inner thoughts knew that the government would never let a killer with a death sentence go free just for winning a fight. Perhaps this was better, to those condemned, than rotting to death in prison or facing a firing squad. They could go down fighting, even if there wasn’t much dignity to these battles. One by one they were eliminated, and those who could still stand after being declared loser were led back into the dark stone halls beneath the stadium to find out their actual fate.

There were enough men to fight that there were four and then five rounds before the contestants had to worry about back-to-back fights, clearing their bracket and moving on to the next. By now it was early afternoon and half the spectators were quite drunk, they made an appropriate ruckus for each fight. Like his fellow participants, Zoro was finally facing some who actually gave him a bit of a workout, though he still advanced every time. The only important thing to note, at least for Sanji, was that the swordsman had yet to take the bandanna off his arm and tie it around his head. No matter how dangerous the fight looked, how long it lasted or how many blows were traded, none were serious enough for that mark of honor, yet. Then came the semi-final round, pitting Zoro against one of the last convicts to actually make it that far in the tournament. The man was willing to do anything to win, and had a keen intellect to match his strong limbs and sure feet. The officials pointed out that he had been sentenced to death for planning and carrying out a horrific attack on the royal house of some island in the South Blue, a politically-motivated incident that also killed several Marines but couldn’t be tied to the Revolutionary movement. So, instead of being shut up in Impel Down with other notorious faction leaders and revolutionists, he was on Esme to have his sentence carried out. Zoro cared nothing for his opponent’s background, his eyes were on the man as he was right in that moment, less desperate than the others and better equipped to actually do something about it. Shuusui and Kitetsu were in his hands before the opening bell of the round. The other had two long knives, carrying one in a reverse grip. Still, the black bandanna remained tied tightly to Zoro’s arm.

The bookie wandered past Sanji right at that moment. “Last chance to cash out while you’re ahead,” he chuckled. “Or are you gonna let it ride?”

Sanji glanced up at him and then waved a hand. “Let it ride. I have a good feeling about this.”

“Your loss,” the bookie shrugged, stepping over near the exit tunnel to have a good vantage point from which to watch this match.

The bell rang, and the two fighters lunged at each other. They moved so fast that the inebriated and inexperienced in the audience could barely follow their movements, and if not for the flashes of weak sunlight reflecting off the blades, few would have known they were armed. There was hardly any time for Zoro to pause, his adversary kept him on his toes and nearly constantly moving, even if it was mainly to keep from having his back to those knives. Block, swing, block, counter, always pivoting and dodging when the knives got in too close. He didn’t get out of this one untouched, either, though he moved quickly enough that would-be stabs became only glancing blows. He took the hilt of one knife in the gut, once, and crumpled to his knees, but managed to expertly block the follow-up move and shove his opponent well clear of himself. It was at that point, as Zoro pushed himself to his feet, that he finally drew Wadou Ichimonji. “Congratulations,” he muttered, even though no one beyond the ring could hear him. “You pushed me this far.”

“Eh?” The convict paused to gauge his move, peering as the swordsman placed the handle between his teeth. “What the hell are you doing? Are you nuts?”

“Nope.” Zoro somehow managed to talk around the sword handle clamped in his mouth – and smirk, as well. “I am in a hurry, though. I don’t have time to play around with you all day, I’m hungry.”

The convict didn’t want to let him grab an advantage, so he charged. Zoro was ready, though, and swept to meet the attack with all three swords. It was over so quickly that it took most of the crowd aback for a moment, briefly silencing the noise, but then their cheers came back just as strongly. Sanji was perhaps the only one not at all worried by the outcome, though he might have briefly held his breath in the seconds prior to the third blade coming out. Seeing Zoro crouched in the ending position of his _tora gari_ made him sit back with a smirk of his own, taking his cigarette in his fingers and blowing out a long stream of smoke. Somewhere nearby the bookie was boggling at the ring, a clear sign that Sanji had made the right choice. The announcer in the booth was having a conniption fit, though. Over the roar of the crowd, everyone could hear: “Could it be? This is unprecedented! It’s said that the three-sword style is used by the pirate hunter Roronoa Zoro – could it be that this truly is _the_ Roronoa Zoro here today?”

Zoro straightened up and sheathed all three swords before striding out of the ring without a care in the world, not even bothering to watch his opponent’s body hit the dirt. The convict might have been barely alive, but he was definitely not the winner of the match. The referees shrank out of Zoro’s way a bit as he headed back to the waiting area under the stadium, but he ignored them as well. He was only thinking about how many more matches he had to fight before he could take that prize money and go eat.

The bookie slunk back over to Sanji, a begging expression on his face. “Are you sure you don’t want to cash out, now? I mean, surely that was beginner’s luck, he can’t possibly keep going like that. You’ve already won ten times what you put in...”

“Nah...” Sanji blew smoke at him this time. “I think I like this guy. I’m going to stick with my original bet. All on him to win it all.”

There was no way for the bookie to safely renege on the bet, so he was forced to creep away sadly, ruing how much he was going to lose over this one wager. The woman sitting next to Sanji applauded him happily, so he gave her a sly wink and a grin. “I think I might be able to repay your hospitality earlier than I expected.”

A couple more semi-final matches later, and the last of the convicts were finally done away with. The final round would be Zoro versus Wilton Fend, the famed bar-owner who was Esme’s reigning champ. Everyone who might have been cheering for the underdog newcomer suddenly switched sides, because every local wanted to see Wilton continue his winning streak. “Over a hundred and thirty matches without a loss, isn’t it?” someone was saying as they filed past Sanji – another break had been announced so everyone could be fresh and ready for the finals. “He’s unstoppable! Not even some fancy-pants pirate with a bounty can live up to that!”

“Do you think that’s really the wanted pirate Roronoa Zoro?” another asked. “What’s he like, what’s his bounty?”

Sanji chose that moment to quietly, unassumingly, get to his feet, shoulder his bag, and leave. He needed to watch the final round, yes, but the sudden shift from complete cluelessness to suspicion meant that he could no longer casually enjoy the tournament like any other spectator. Once again he melted into the crowd going to and fro from the food vendors and seemed to vanish, calling no attention to himself as he located an unguarded door and slipped into the inner network of halls that comprised the stadium below the tiers of seats. Here he went more stealthily, keeping to shadows and lurking in doorways so as not to be spotted.

In the anteroom where the fighters waited, there were only two left. Zoro sat with his feet up on a table strewn with sign-up sheets, arms folded, eyes closed, until something thumped down onto the table, rattling it and jostling him alert. He cracked an eye to find a rather large basket sitting by his feet. His soon-to-be opponent, a big burly fellow who definitely looked like both a bartender and a champion fighter, grinned at him. “Looks like I packed too much again! You’ve gotta be hungry by now, swordsman, why not help me get rid of all this lunch?”

Zoro was undoubtedly hungry, but he didn’t usually trust generous offers from people he was planning to fight to the death. Because he hadn’t been able to watch the fights and napped through half of them anyway, he didn’t know a thing of Wilton’s track record or reputation – only that he wasn’t a criminal, because he’d been waiting in the same anteroom with the other volunteer fighters all day. Zoro gave him a wary look. “No thanks,” he murmured. “I’ll live.”

“Aw, it’d be a shame to let all this go to waste,” the barman said, taking several packets and then a couple of bottles out of the basket to set on the table. “I even brought some of my own home-brewed ale to take the edge off.”

At that, Zoro perked right up. “You make your own beer?”

“Course! I’m not just a bar _tender_ , I’m the owner!” He popped off the top of one with his bare hand and held it out. “Serious, it’s on me. Give it a try, tell me what you think.”

Zoro accepted this offer without question, taking a testing sip first. “Not bad,” he remarked coolly. “Maybe I’ll have to take this off your hands, if you’ve got nowhere else to put it.”

Wilton laughed and went about making a thick sandwich with bits and pieces of everything else he had unpacked. “Don’t worry, I’ll have one too. That way we’ll be on an even playing field out there. Unless you’re a lightweight, of course.”

Zoro smirked a bit and downed more of the ale. It really was quite good, and strong. “If you’re trying to get on my good side so I’ll roll over and let you beat me, think again. I’m in this for the prize.”

“At least you’re not in it for your life,” Wilton shrugged. “Gotta say, it’s good to get the chance to go up against a real fighter for the title. The last couple of years it’s been convicts, and even though I knew I still had to beat ‘em, it just took all the fun out of it, having to play exterminator for some powers that be instead of fighting for the joy of it.”

Zoro’s eyebrow arched a bit as he lowered the bottle from his lips. “You’re the champion.”

“Yep. Five years running.” Wilton puffed out his chest in pride, though the big sandwich in his hand sort of ruined the heroic moment. “Gives me a reason to stay in shape all year long, so I can be ready for this. They bring in some real hard criminals from all over, somebody has to be strong enough to beat ‘em.”

“Sorry I’m going to have to ruin your streak,” Zoro said, aloof as ever. “It’s nothing personal.”

“Hey, don’t get me wrong, I’m looking forward to our fight!” Wilton crowed. “I can really have fun and fight for myself, not because I have to win so some criminal doesn’t.”

Zoro gave him a sly, sideways look. “How do you know I’m not a criminal?”

The barman munched thoughtfully on his sandwich for a bit. “Are you the real Roronoa Zoro, then?”

“What does it matter?” Zoro went back to drinking, enjoying the taste of ale. It was enough to take the edge off his hunger, though he’d be eating more than his fill tonight. “I’m strong enough to make it this far with barely a scratch. That’s all you need to worry about.”

That earned him a thoughtful look. “True enough.”

There was a brief moment of quiet, while eating and drinking went on, before Zoro spoke again. “What have you got against criminals, anyway?”

Wilton looked surprised. “Nothing, really. I enter to fight because I can, not because I want to kill convicts. They could stop the practice tonight and make the tournament all-volunteer and I’d still fight.” He shrugged again. “At least the tradition of this tournament has kept Esme more or less peaceful for a long time. A few rowdy sailors in my bar from time to time, that’s about it.”

Zoro could picture the Marines going around all of the nearby islands, taking their most violent criminals off their hands and saving them up for this tournament. It was kind of disgusting, if one considered how “justice” was bandied about so freely among the law-enforcing types. In the end, he just finished off the bottle of ale and set it firmly on the table. “Make no mistake, I’m winning that prize one way or the other. But I have nothing personal against you or this island and its traditions. I’m just going to win.”

“Eh? Such confidence!” Wilton chortled. “Either you’re really stupid or really brave, kid, I’ll give you that. We’ll make it a good fight, then.” He held out his thick hand, and Zoro gave it a quick clasp of agreement.

The break was sufficient enough for the fighters to rest up completely and prepare for the final round, though a number of the spectators were getting restless by the end of it. The matronly woman noticed that the suave-looking blond man never came back to his seat. Sanji was, at the moment, squirreled away somewhere with a fairly good vantage point, having investigated enough to know that there were no Marines anywhere in the stadium and the ship docked just beyond there was a private transport vessel. All the better; he didn’t want their victory nor their crucial journey back to the others to be interrupted now. As the announcer resumed his call of the tournament, he had added a few things to his introductory speech on the fighters – clearly, someone had found him a recent bounty poster so he could list off the credentials of one Roronoa Zoro. There really was no reason, now, to deny his identity, Zoro just stood there at his end of the ring with a serious look, arms folded, as the announcer claimed he looked just like the man on the poster so this was, indeed, a wanted pirate. It served to hype up the crowd even further against him, though it appeared to have no affect at all on his opponent. Wilton Fend stood facing him, stretching out his relaxed muscles and occasionally waving to the crowd to acknowledge their love for him. If he cared that Zoro was a pirate with crimes against the World Government on his record, he didn’t show it. He was armed solely with a wooden club, though it was easily thicker around than Zoro’s leg. At last the bell rang, and the fight began.

Two blades were out in the blink of an eye. Zoro let his opponent make the first move, shifting into a waiting stance. Fend came in slowly, though, in no hurry to press the attack. It was wise for a man who fought with his hands and blunt weapons, using mostly his own strength, not to fly into the face of multiple swords. Zoro pushed him to attack by lifting his blades in threat and then springing from his place, though he only circled around Wilton. The bigger man turned quickly to stop him, swinging the club down hard. Zoro sprang once more to avoid getting slammed in the head, rolling from his shoulder back up to his feet in one swift motion. The bartender was clearly not one of those thickset types who was all bulk and no actual brawn, those were well-honed muscles and he moved a lot faster than most expected. He lunged in to grab Zoro, forcing the swordsman to dodge once more. They went around and around a few times before Zoro could finally get a hit in, slashing hard. Fend raised his club to take the brunt of it, and naturally the blades sawed chunks right out of it. That left him just enough of an opening to swing his other fist around and clout Zoro hard in the side of the head, sending him sprawling. Fortunately, the only automatic losses were death or knockout, and Zoro was still breathing just fine. He had to shake his head clear of the ringing, but he still got right back up and dove in again. His opponent now had to fight bare-handed, but he seemed not to consider this a disadvantage. He still moved swiftly and managed to knock aside Zoro’s arms before a slash could connect, and finally got a hand on him from behind. The barman knew plenty of good wrestling moves for dealing with drunken sailors in his establishment, and put Zoro into a hold that he could use to knock him out. Growling, Zoro found himself having to steal a move from Sanji, kicking his opponent in the gut with his heel. He threw his swords with quick flicks of his wrists, leaving them embedded in the dirt, and then grabbed onto Wilton’s head. The big man was starting to wilt from the kick, giving Zoro the chance he needed to regain his feet. The instant his boots touched ground he bent, yanked, and then threw Fend over his shoulder and halfway across the ring. The huge bartender’s body slammed into the dirt, knocking the wind out of him. Not to be outdone, Zoro grabbed the swords waiting for him and charged again, readying for a finishing blow. But Fend managed to roll away just in time, and struggled to his feet. Zoro was undoubtedly quick enough to reverse direction and take him down while he was still floundering, but he sensed no killing intent from his opponent. Instead, he watched warily and backed off, flicking the swords into another defensive stance.

Wilton shook his head. “I don’t need your pity, kid. If you’re going to finish me, finish me.”

A grim smirk flashed across Zoro’s face. “What, are you in that much of a hurry to die? I kind of thought we were having fun. It would be a shame to end it so soon.”

Though he was breathing hard, the barman managed to bark a quick laugh. “Maybe so. All right, here we go again. And don’t hold back on me this time.”

He squared himself, and then suddenly kicked dirt up into Zoro’s eyes. Not expecting it at all, Zoro flinched and failed to avoid it in time. He slashed out instinctively even as a huge fist barreled into his gut, sending him snapping backwards into the ropes that marked the ring’s boundaries. The crowd hooted and cried, but it took a moment before Zoro could scrub and blink his eyes clear to see why – blood was running down Wilton’s left shoulder. He had bitten, and deep. Brushing his face clean across his shirt-sleeve, Zoro steadied himself, took a breath, and charged, needing to press his advantage. Fend steeled himself and rolled his injured shoulder forward to absorb any hits, allowing him to jog and get inside Zoro’s guard. Kitetsu’s blade scored up his arm and ripped into his sleeve as he swung his body around and reached in with his right hand, slamming it into Zoro’s chest. The lingering weakness from his past injuries made the swordsman grunt and clench his teeth, as the palm-smack nearly knocked the breath out of him, and in that half-second of hesitation Wilton moved, his hand coming up and clamping around Zoro’s throat. That quickly, he was standing in the center of the ring with his opponent held up off the ground by his neck. It was a dangerous position for both of them – if the barman couldn’t choke the life out of the swordsman in time, those blades would cut him to ribbons. He didn’t count on Zoro being so resilient, or his stamina so high. Kitetsu came back up and pointed straight into his face, a fraction of an inch from his eyeball, as Zoro glowered down the length of their arms and muttered, “if you had any intention of keeping that arm, you’ll let go.”

Wilton met his gaze, and what he saw was enough to encourage him to comply. He loosened his hand enough for Zoro to drop to a dignified crouch on the ground, his swords instantly crossed over his head to block. “Yeah, that was too cheap a move even for me,” the barman admitted. “You’re tough, kid.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Zoro rose to his full height, drawing Wadou Ichimonji as he came. “I suppose I may as well stop holding back.”

Wilton’s shoulders sagged a bit, though he laughed. “I had a feeling. You’ve got way too much in reserve there.”

“Giving up?”

“Not hardly.” The barman cracked his knuckles, wincing only a little at the pain in his left arm, and dropped into a guarded stance that smacked of some actual fight training. “If you want that prize money, you’re gonna earn it.”

“My bounty’s worth a thousand times that prize,” Zoro noted as he bit down on Wadou’s handle.

“And your strength is a thousand times mine,” Wilton sighed, in a quieter tone that the audience completely missed. “I’d never collect on it. Just make it pretty, whatever you do.”

Zoro nodded once in understanding. He stood there unruffled, the other two swords held low and waiting. Wilton used the moment’s pause to dig inside his vest and pull out a rather notched set of brass knuckles, which he slipped onto his hands in preparation. Zoro cared nothing about the new weapon, even though the announcer seemed to be making a big deal out of it – it wasn’t against the rules, no, it was supposedly a brilliant revelation of some kind that would turn the match around for the local hero. But the two fighters knew the match was already won, and by whom. They were simply playing it out for their own reasons, be that honor or whatever. Wilton made the next move, coming in hard and fast with his fists still leading the way. When Zoro swung, the metal hand-guards rang as they connected with the blades and turned them aside, giving the barman another chance at a hit. He got a fistful of haramaki, but had to pull his punch because the third blade suddenly came at his face. Before fully retreating, he grabbed each of Zoro’s arms, and then brought his head down in what could have been a spectacular head-butt to ring both their bells. That is, if Zoro wasn’t a user of _santoryu_. The side of Wadou Ichimonji’s blade intercepted the hit and held there, Zoro snarling around the grip on the handle. They squared off for a few heart-stopping moments, and then disengaged with Zoro using the momentum to roll backward and pull his right arm free. The wound to his arm made Fend’s grip on that side weak enough to break the hold. The barman started to reel him in with the other arm, intending to pull Zoro straight into his brass-covered fist, but Zoro was ready and simply leaped upward instead of forward. In a panic, Fend decided to just throw him off, flinging him clear to the other side of the ring before he could lose an arm. Zoro’s boots skidded across the dirt until they found purchase, and he paused just long enough to raise his head and see what his opponent was doing. The bulky barman had turned and was charging again, not wanting to give the swordsman long enough to think and re-think his moves. He didn’t realize that Zoro needed no time at all. He came up into a partial crouch and raised the two swords to cross the third. Wilton pulled back his fist and ran straight into the _oni giri_ , which Zoro unleashed at point-blank range to send the large man flying back almost to the other end of the ring. He slammed into the ground and rolled a few times, and then lay still. Officials scrambled to check on his status, as the audience gave cries of dismay that their hero had been toppled. It definitely looked like a terrible, fatal hit, but what no one could see was that, at the last second, Zoro’s wrists twisted in order to strike with the backs of his blades. Wilton Fend was unconscious and probably hurting quite a bit, but he wasn’t dead. Once they had confirmed this, the officials signaled with flags to the announcing booth, which called the match: “Winner, by... _knockout?_ Is Roronoa Zoro!”

The fact that Fend hadn’t been killed kept the entire audience from booing Zoro out of the ring. As it was, there was scattered applause and a few cheers from those who actually did like the swordsman for one reason or another, but the rest of the crowd simply withheld their noise. Zoro didn’t care, although the handful of open jeers made him glare up into the stands as if to find and visibly threaten the naysayers. Because he was a legitimate volunteer fighter, the officials had no reason to deny him his win or his prize, but instead of making a big show out of it, they simply hustled forward in a knot, handed over the case of beli and an envelope with the card to the island’s finest resort inn, and then left. Zoro simply looked it over to make sure it was all there, and then allowed himself a smug laugh before heading straight to the same exit he had been using all day.

A figure melted out of the shadows as he stepped down into the corridor. “Well, that made you rather popular.”

Though he didn’t start, Zoro did not expect to find Sanji waiting for him, there. He stopped and then handed over the envelope. “Keep an eye on this. I’m bound to lose it, and then we’d be out a place to crash.”

Sanji snatched the envelope with his slim fingers and tucked it into the breast pocket of his suit coat. “Let’s get out of here before your fans catch up to you and show you their appreciation.”

“Feh...” Zoro shrugged and cracked his neck to show how little he cared. “I’m not worried. So what if I took their champion down? He’ll be back next year. We won’t.”

Sanji couldn’t really argue with that, even if he knew full well that it didn’t stop people from being angry at them tonight, and for the duration of their stay on the island. Together the two of them passed silently through the corridors to get to the main exit, but just as they reached the gate, someone came running up behind them. “Mr. Roronoa! Wait a minute!” The two pirates stopped and turned to find one of the officials chasing them down. “Before you leave, Wilton Fend wants to see you. He said he wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh, he came around already?” Sanji murmured.

Zoro tilted his head back aloofly. “I don’t need to see him. Tell him to get stronger for next year. That’s all I have to say.”

The official gaped at him, but since the two resumed their exit without further word, he was left with no choice but to take that message to the fallen hero. Sanji cast his companion a curious look. “What was that all about?”

“Guy’s smarter than he looked,” Zoro replied. “I had to let him live, he brews his own beer.”

Sanji sniffed the faintest chuckle as they passed under the archway and out into the street thronged with people. “Come on, I’m hungry. There’s one thing I have to take care of, and then I say we find a restaurant worthy of our money.”

A few people were lingering outside the fighters’ entrance to try and get a glimpse of him, or maybe even an autograph, but Zoro just waved them off and kept walking. The kids were clearly in awe of him, while others whispered about whether the guy with him was also a pirate – or just his agent, after all. As they came around the front of the stadium, they had to pass the bettors’ stalls, and Sanji steered them aside so he could go and pick up his winnings. The bookie looked more than simply put out at having to pay that much on a wager, but he did so while the others watching chided him for making such huge odds on the newcomer. The bookie slid the stack of beli across the counter to Sanji and immediately turned to raise a ruckus with the others before furiously slamming the curtain to his stall closed. Zoro boggled at them, and then at the money. “What the hell is that?”

“I put down a bet on you,” Sanji responded with a smirk. “Although I suppose it doesn’t really count as a wager if I was sure you would win.”

“You bet on me?” Zoro wasn’t sure whether to be outraged. “...with what money?”

“I found some loose change in the bottom of the bag. Don’t worry.” Sanji clapped him on the shoulder and then tucked his cash away inside his coat as well. “Now we definitely have the money to get back to Sabaody in style if we want to.”

Zoro sighed aggressively, but let it go. “Right now, all I want is to stuff myself full and have at least two bottles. Anything after that, I don’t care.”

Over the course of the afternoon, the clouds had thickened and the air had gotten chillier. Word was this was an autumn island, and the changing weather seemed to support that. It was something to keep in mind as they meandered through the streets looking for a good place to eat. At least all of the restaurants had their lights blazing, patios full, and doors wide open to capture the festive atmosphere, making it easy to find them. The only hard part was deciding which one to patronize. In the end, it came down to the one whose owner was just putting out a signboard for tonight’s specials when they passed, and greeted the winner of the tournament excitedly. Despite having defeated the island’s favorite, being the tournament winner was still something of a celebrity status and got them instant service at the best seat in the house. The two pirates had themselves a huge dinner, with dessert, split a bottle of wine, and lingered while Zoro also had the better part of a bottle of whiskey. Sanji sat back smoking, looking as satisfied as if he’d just had sex. The restaurant owner was definitely doing his best to make sure the tournament winner was treated like royalty, and Zoro had the best time paying Sanji back by referring to him as his agent the whole time just to irritate him. After all, mere agents didn’t get spoken of after the festival was over. Sanji did his best to ignore the needling, deciding to flirt with the waitresses instead. It was just starting to get dark when they finally left, sated and content, as the sun set behind the clouds. At least they had gotten some valuable information by sitting there long enough, plying the right people with questions and happily ordering extra food. They were told about the street festival which would be happening the following night, with more food and a big community dance, and discovered that much of the ship traffic would also not be in business tomorrow. It was too late to go to the harbor and attempt to book passage anyway, so the two pirates decided they would just have to take advantage of their prizes and stay one more day, take care of supplies and errands and enjoy the street festival, and worry about leaving afterward. They were only in as much of a hurry as they wanted to be, not knowing the fate of the others but certain that they would never disembark from Sabaody without the cook and the first mate. Sanji got directions to the resort inn from their host, and thanked him profusely for a dinner of fine cuisine, before they headed out.

Offering the winner of the tournament a night’s stay in this hotel was probably a means to get visitors to actually enter, Sanji guessed as they came up on the ridiculously elegant façade of the so-called resort inn. It wasn’t much of a resort, its only real feature to that effect was that it overlooked the ocean and was surrounded by the most upscale shops and residences. The clerk behind the desk looked down his nose at them when they entered, mostly at Zoro still in his ripped shirt from the fights, but when Sanji pulled the envelope from his pocket and handed it over, the mood changed instantly and they were whisked away to the reserved room with the man bowing and ingratiating himself the whole way. It was a rather nice second-floor room with its own private bath, two large beds, a wardrobe, and a dining area right in the room. The windows overlooked the courtyard on one side and the ocean on the adjoining side. Since they had both eaten and drank their fill, they demurred on any offers of room service and told the clerk to leave them be. They would call if they needed anything.

Sanji tossed their duffel bag in the wardrobe and immediately loosened his tie, tugging it off in one fluid move. “Now this is what I’m talking about,” he said as he walked around and poked into everything. “Sure, it’s no palace, but it’s better than a shack with a dirt floor and a leaky roof.”

Zoro set his swords against the wall within arm’s reach of both beds and flopped down across one. “I don’t care about the looks, but I don’t mind the bath and the room service.”

“Not bad for a couple of pirates, eh?” Sanji smirked over his shoulder as he unbuttoned his suit coat and hung it up.

Zoro watched him for a moment, his mood sobering. “What do you think? Now that they know who I am, are they gonna call in the Marines?”

Sanji thought about it while he rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. “There’s no way to know for sure, but I doubt it,” he answered at last. “If they really had a problem with you being a pirate, they would have disqualified you on the spot the minute they knew that name was on a wanted poster. But no, they let you fight and win, and didn’t refuse the prize.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Zoro laced his fingers together behind his head. “I kind of wouldn’t mind a night or two of not having to look over our shoulders.”

“No such thing.” Zoro’s question had Sanji wondering, if perhaps they could be in danger now, but there really was no way to predict whether someone on the island was, even at this moment, putting in a transponder call to the nearest Marine base. All they could do was enjoy their time, make their plans, and keep an eye out. For a moment Sanji stood in the doorway of the washroom, contemplating taking a bath, but he had spent a rather low-stress day and opted to put it off until tomorrow. Zoro, on the other hand… “Oi. Are you taking a bath, or what?”

Zoro was actually drowsing on the bed, as he did after a heavy meal. “Huh? Oh…nah, I’ll do it tomorrow.” He grunted a bit as he pushed himself up to a seat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe I should wash up, though.”

Sanji tilted his head in vague acknowledgement of the idea. As long as his crewmate was still just sitting there, he went in first and took care of his own business. He passed Zoro coming out, but paused there and glanced over his shoulder to watch the swordsman peel off his battle-damaged shirt. Sanji told himself he was just checking for fresh bruises, though his gaze lingered a second too long on his comrade’s broad, muscled back. He shook himself alert and slinked away to the wardrobe to fish out a change of clothes, and maybe hang up a few shirts he didn’t like to see wrinkled so long as they had the facilities. “You know, I have an idea” he said, raising his voice enough to be heard in the next room. “As long as we’ve already decided to stay through the street dance tomorrow night, we should look into what this room costs and just stay here a second night, rather than change hotels again.”

“Go right ahead, you’re the one rolling in beli,” Zoro retorted from the bathroom.

Sanji snorted; he did make several thousand off that bet, but nothing close to Zoro’s actual prize. “And you’re the famous winner of the tournament,” he shot back. “Maybe they’ll cut you a deal.”

Zoro audibly scoffed at that, and then was silent for a minute. Sanji closed the wardrobe and looked toward the bathroom just as he finally responded. “Do whatever you want. I don’t need fancy digs, but I guess it would be stupid to get another hotel when we’ve already got one.”

Sanji wandered into the doorway, setting his hands on his slim hips. For a moment he just watched Zoro tend to his few scratches, relieved to see that despite the beatings, he had come through the tournament more or less unscathed. “I want to pick up a few things tomorrow, and see about booking passage out of here,” he declared. “We may as well just stay the night here.”

“Yeah.” Zoro glanced his way, grinning. “And make the most of that bath. If they’re gonna put me up like a prince just for winning a fight, I’ll abuse every last privilege.”

“Che...” Sanji smirked back, agreeing with the idea fully. He relaxed and folded his arms before leaning on the door frame, simply remaining there ogling his crewmate’s bare torso. Zoro finished scrubbing the dirt and sweat out of his minor wounds and off his face, splashed fresh water over himself, and then stood back to eyeball Sanji right back. “What?” the cook said innocently.

“You’re staring.” Zoro’s lip curled in a leer. “See something you like?”

“Shut up, I am not staring.” Sanji waved a hand dismissively. “You’re imagining things.”

“Yeah, well...” Zoro came up to him, leaning close, and then reached for the door. “...I gotta take a leak. Back off.” He shut the door in Sanji’s face.

Huffing, Sanji turned and retreated to the other side of the room. It was good and dark outside, now, so he had himself a look out the windows at the night sky and the ocean, and then drew the curtains. As he pulled the last one shut, an arm snaked around his waist from behind. “Oh,” Sanji said coolly, “I guess that means you’re out.”

“Was this what you were waiting for?” Zoro murmured in his ear. “Or are you leading me on again...?”

Sanji didn’t want to come right out and say that he was serious, this time, but the fact that he wasn’t pulling away or protesting vocally said enough. He rested his hand over Zoro’s where it sat on his belt buckle and breathed a quiet sigh. “You’re probably tired,” he murmured.

“Mm. Yeah.” Zoro bent his head and rested his lips and chin on Sanji’s shoulder. The cook could feel the moist tips of his spiky hair and the warm wetness lingering on his freshly-washed skin, pressing against his neck and ear. “But if you wanna fool around a little before bed, I think I can stay awake long enough.”

“I’m not that desperate.” Sanji reached up and curled his fingers through Zoro’s damp hair, as much as he could touch. “Go on and sleep, dumbass.”

“I got all day tomorrow to sleep.” Zoro’s hand drifted lower, brushing over the fly of Sanji’s trousers, getting a grip through the fabric and squeezing very gently until the cook gasped and pressed back against him. He tipped his head back, exposing more of his neck for the other to explore if he wished. “You sure you want to just put me to bed?” Zoro breathed with his lips resting on that spot.

“Nnngh...” Sanji’s face flushed, mostly because he couldn’t believe just that one good squeeze already got him started. So much for not being desperate. He moved his hand to cover Zoro’s again, but instead of pulling it away like he thought he ought to, he pressed it more firmly against his groin, guiding it to begin rubbing. Zoro complied without hesitation, and wrapped his other arm across Sanji’s chest to keep him in place. He deftly kneaded Sanji through his trousers until the cook was panting and moaning, and then tugged his belt open so he could slide his hand down inside and touch him skin to skin. Sanji rolled his head back and then to the side, brushing his lips against his comrade’s temple. Zoro raised his head a little, and then pressed a hand to Sanji’s face in order to guide him closer and kiss him fully. There was no resistance, no protest this time, only the soft sounds of their panting breaths and the rustle of clothing as Zoro continued to fondle and stroke his comrade while they kissed. After a bit, though, Sanji’s hand tapped his gently in a signal to get him to stop, mostly so he could pull free of the embrace and turn around. His hands splayed across the swordsman’s bare stomach and circled around to his back as he leaned in and kissed him hard, snaking his tongue into Zoro’s mouth and diving deep. At the same time, Zoro snuck his hand back down into the trousers, this time to grope the cook’s firm ass, and draped his other arm over his shoulders while he accepted the kiss. They kept it up until both were breathless, and then Zoro pushed Sanji a step or two back until he leaned against the wall beside the window. Sanji looked up hazily, and then down as Zoro disengaged and slid down the length of his body to kneel in front of him. Sanji groaned once more, and his eyes fluttered closed in expectation. “...so that’s what you want...”

“You’re already hard,” Zoro noted in a low murmur. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Take care of...” Sanji started to scoff, but then the other was tugging his trousers down just enough to free his erection from the folds of his shirttails and fly. It was a nice position to be in, so Sanji bit down any more smart remarks and acquiesced to Zoro’s idea completely. Zoro palmed the shaft and worked it gently before leaning in and taking it into his mouth, mostly licking and tasting to start. His lips slid repeatedly over the head like he was savoring a stick of candy, his tongue pressing gently to the underside. Sanji cracked an eye to watch him and let out a quiet moan at the unexpectedly submissive expression on his crewmate’s face, his eyes half-closed and his jaw slack as he patiently worked his mouth and tongue around the growing erection. The soft sound in the otherwise dead quiet of the room made Zoro take a further chance, taking as much into his mouth as he could. He rose up a little on his knees and focused his full attention on Sanji’s cock, curling one hand around the base and resting the other on his hip as if to press him against the wall. Sanji didn’t need to be held down this time, though, he clearly wanted it and rewarded the effort by threading his fingers through Zoro’s short hair, almost massaging his head in his eagerness. In time, he even fell unconsciously in sync with the fingers stroking the base of his erection. Once he was good and hard, Zoro shifted his tactic a bit, using his hand entirely while he pulled up the tails of Sanji’s shirt and kissed his abs instead, licking down the trail from his navel to his groin and back up. It was unexpected and thoroughly appreciated, judging by the sighs and groans coming from the cook in response. In fact, Sanji really had never had it so good. A few of the more adventurous women he had been with would try it, just a little, but had no experience and only went so far before wanting to stop and do something else. This time, it looked like Zoro intended to go all the way, and Sanji felt himself tensing solely from the expectation. It helped that the angle of Zoro’s hand on him made it also brush his balls, so every inch of him was getting pleasured. Warm breath and wet lips lavished his abdomen, and then slid lower again, until the swordsman’s mouth was back on the head of his erection, leading with his tongue. He worked faster this time, more aggressively, plunging down a little more and sucking as he pulled back. By now Sanji was gasping out loud, and his fingers curled around his comrade’s ear in an attempt to keep from tugging on his hair. There wasn’t enough to get a grip on anyway. For his part, Zoro was just making it up as he went along, but it was getting results. He smirked to himself as he pulled back once more, nuzzling and kissing while his hand stroked away, his grip loose and light but fast. He was getting good at reading Sanji’s body, noting his muscles tensing or his breathing hitch, small signals that he was getting closer. He kept it up with his hand until Sanji began to squirm against the wall, at which point he closed his lips around the head again and dragged his tongue over the tip, going down on him with more ferocity for the last round. Zoro heard a thump as Sanji’s back hit the wall hard, and felt both his hands clasp his head as if to force him down further. Zoro took in as much as he could, but his hands were doing most of the work now. It didn’t take much longer anyway, and then Sanji sucked in his breath in warning. Zoro closed his mouth around him to encourage him the rest of the way, flinching only a little at the sudden new taste filling his mouth. Sanji hissed and then yelped as he came, his hips twitching until hands pressed him against the wall. He looked down again to find Zoro enthusiastically licking him clean, prolonging the pleasure and sending a shiver through the cook as he watched – and liked it.

Zoro sat back on his heels and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. He’d never actually followed through to completion with another man, like that, but he wasn’t about to let his crewmate know. He didn’t dislike it, though. He shot Sanji a heavy look from under his brow and smirked a bit at seeing the arrogant cook so disheveled and used from just a little quickie. Rather than sit there with a softening cock in his face, he pushed himself to his feet and leaned against Sanji, covering his half-naked hips with his own and trapping him with his weight. Sanji had recovered his breath enough to meet the lips descending on his halfway, kissing his comrade hard in gratitude. His arms fastened around Zoro’s bare torso, trapping him in turn as he broke off and just stood there, panting and sweaty, his blond hair covering most of his face. Something else was clear as Zoro pressed against him that way. “Not interested?” Sanji breathed into the space between their faces.

Zoro grunted a little. “Too tired,” he replied. He bent his head a bit more and rested his forehead against Sanji’s. For a moment, there was nothing else in the world but the two of them, heated and exhausted and feeling rather good. But then Sanji’s hand came up and patted him on the chest, wordlessly signaling that he wanted to be let up, even as he turned his head away from Zoro’s. The swordsman reluctantly withdrew, though he remained standing there while Sanji shouldered past him with a swish of clothing and jingle of his belt, headed for the bathroom. It really was getting to be a pain in the ass, Zoro thought to himself as he rubbed the back of his neck and then finished getting ready for bed. He didn’t know why he was so ardently pursuing things with the cook, when it always finished with awkwardness and embarrassment and denial that anything so good could come from the two of them being together. It also bothered him that he just kept trying – instead of being turned off by the constant resistance, he was being far too patient and persistent. Was what he wanted really worth it? Then again, he had been asked if he wanted reciprocation a few minutes ago. Was it possible that if he hadn’t been so tired, he would have gotten it?

Zoro was undoubtedly too tired to even be fully frustrated. He just turned down the blankets and crawled into the luxurious bed as he was, flopping onto his side. It wasn’t long before he heard Sanji’s bare feet pad back out of the bathroom, cross the room to get all of the lights, and then pause by the wardrobe to toss something in. A moment later, and Zoro’s eyes snapped open in surprise, for he felt the bed sink with the weight of another body behind him. He started to roll over to ask what the hell was going on, but Sanji’s arm draped over his waist, stopping him at a certain point. “Don’t ask,” the cook muttered as he nestled down beside Zoro, stretching out fully against his back.

“Don’t tell me not to ask,” Zoro grumbled, though he rolled back into position and plopped his head back down onto the pillow. “There’s two beds in this room. I just want to know why you’re not in the other one, far away from me.”

Sanji didn’t have a good reason, other than simply wanting it this way, so he said nothing for the time being. The darkened room fell into an utter stillness around them, in which they could actually hear the faint sound of a clock ticking way over by the door. After a minute, Sanji wormed himself closer so he could place his lips beside Zoro’s ear and whisper an answer of sorts. “If you’re going to complain about getting what you want, then I’m not going to give it you again.”

Zoro’s upper body expanded with a deep sigh. He likewise had no response, but he did move his arm to accommodate the one curled around his chest, and placed his hand on top of Sanji’s in acceptance of his presence. The body resting against his relaxed subtly, and very shortly after, both fell asleep one right after the other.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's really only one reason to have a private room in a luxury hotel - abusing the setting for sex scenes. Oh yeah there's a festival too.

Sanji’s internal clock was good at getting him up in time to provide breakfast for the crew, most of the time. The next morning was no different than usual, even though there was no one to cook for that day and nowhere to do the cooking. Despite being both sated and exhausted the night before, they had slept less soundly than usual, and repositioned at some point in the night. Zoro was now passed out on top of Sanji, limbs akimbo and head pillowed on the cook’s shoulder while the latter slept on his back. Blinking at the faint traces of daylight filtering in through the curtains over the windows, Sanji raised the hand not currently trapped under a swordsman’s bulk and clawed his hair away from an eye. The clock by the door, which he could definitely hear now, was too far away to see the face and tell the time in the dim light. For a little while he just laid there, wondering about the time and the weather but far too comfortable to bother getting up to check either. He suspected the tossing and turning had to do with the bedding being much, much nicer than either of them were used to, but he had still slept well enough to be fully rested. It didn’t surprise him that Zoro was still asleep; he tilted his head to regard the face so close to his, completely calm in slumber. There was something magnificent about him seen up close and unguarded, Sanji thought. All the things that might irritate him about Zoro could not be discerned when he was out cold, not talking, and mostly naked. The warm draft of his breath teased Sanji’s chest, for he also had stripped off his shirt before bed. It was a nice place to be, but the longer Sanji lay awake, the more his other needs became apparent. He considered trying not to wake Zoro, but then decided he didn’t care that much and simply eased himself out from underneath his crewmate. Zoro mumbled in his sleep and then snuggled right back down into the warm bedding, never once waking up.

On his way out of the bathroom, Sanji heard a quiet yet firm knock on the hotel room door. Grabbing one of the robes left for the guests’ convenience, he rushed to turn back the blankets on the second bed to make it look like it had been used, and then answered the door. A young man wearing a kitchen uniform greeted him hesitantly. “Er, would our esteemed guests care for breakfast service?”

Sanji glanced over his shoulder to verify that Zoro was, in fact, still sleeping, before answering. “Just tea for now,” he replied in a low tone. “We...I’ll call down for breakfast when my client gets his ass out of bed.”

“Very good, sir,” the youth nodded. “Will...you be checking out today?”

“I doubt it.” Sanji started to close the door. “But I’ll discuss that with the desk after tea.”

The staffer backed off, lest he get a door in the nose. Sanji shrugged off the robe and left it draped over a chair on his way back to bed, stretching out next to Zoro to await the tea service where it was nice and warm and comfy. The swordsman had rolled over onto his other side, but Sanji could still reach and scrub his fingers through his hair. It made Zoro stir slightly, if only to arch against his bedmate and purr under his breath. Eventually, though, there was another knock to signal the arrival of the tea service, forcing Sanji to drag himself out of the enjoyable position and go answer.

Zoro continued to sleep for quite a while, taking up the entire bed, but eventually he did wake up and find his comrade sitting at the table in the front corner of the room, swathed in a bathrobe and lazily sipping a cup of tea. Zoro stretched and scratched, gingerly tested a couple of spots to make sure he wasn’t developing delayed bruises from all the fighting, and then meandered across to the bathroom. When he came back out, he prowled over to see if there was anything besides tea on the table. Sanji glanced up at him, looking cool and collected with the robe only loosely tied and sliding off one shoulder. “I called down for breakfast a little while ago,” he reported. “It should be here any minute.”

Zoro gazed at him a moment, and then moved to pour himself a cup of tea. “No newspaper?”

“I asked, but apparently they’re hard to come by today,” Sanji shrugged. “I’ll check around later.”

Zoro sagged into one of the other chairs with the hot tea held gingerly in his fingertips. It really was only a few moments before room service knocked again, and this time entered with freshly-baked bread, thick slabs of ham, eggs, and a dish of various fruits drizzled with a sweet sauce. Sanji inspected the quality of the meal before tipping the waiter and sending him off, locking the door behind him. The pirates were now free to eat their fill, and set to without hardly any conversation. Zoro definitely ate the larger share, as he always did, but Sanji relished times like this when he didn’t have to cook, because he didn’t have to compete for a portion or eat while standing in the kitchen. Naturally, he critiqued the food, he couldn’t help it, but he kept it to himself. As long as it was edible, he didn’t usually have much to say. Whatever they didn’t finish immediately could be nibbled on later, as they had no plans to go very far and were looking forward to the street festival later that night. At last, Sanji sat back to have a cigarette, and Zoro got up to open the curtains and let light into their room. It was only about nine, and the sky outside looked much the same as the day before, with thick clouds that didn’t look threatening rent now and then by a stream of weak sunshine. He passed behind Sanji’s chair, brushing a hand across his shoulder as he went, and continued on toward their lavish bathroom. “I think it’s time for a real bath. You joining me?”

“Mm?” Sanji looked up with a touch of surprise, and then tipped his chin in a vague nod. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Zoro accepted with a similar nod and strolled on into the bathroom. Besides the facilities, it was equipped with a rather enormous private bath, so Zoro started the water to let it fill while he went about getting what he needed and then sitting down on a bath stool to scrub and wash. Sanji came in after finishing his cigarette and grabbing fresh clothes, draping them over the decorative screen they weren’t really using and stepping in to assist with scrubbing his crewmate’s back. All of the boys in the crew had taken their turns at that duty in the bath before, once or twice, so it was nothing particularly unusual. But the new developments unfolding between cook and swordsman made this time a little different. They hardly spoke as they washed, except to murmur instructions like “gimme that,” and “my turn, now.” The hotel provided quality soaps and shampoo for their guests, and even a razor, not that Sanji ever used one – his chin-scruff was the limit of what he could grow so far. By the time both finished thoroughly soaping, scrubbing, and rinsing every last crevice, the giant bath was finally filled with deliciously hot water. Neither even bothered with modesty towels or anything, they just stepped into the bath and slowly lowered themselves, reclining against adjacent sides with similar sighs of relief. The tub was large enough that both could stretch their legs out and not tangle with each other if they really wanted – as large as the one on the Sunny, though fan-shaped instead of perfectly round. For a while they just sighed in contentment and said nothing, letting the room fill with the sound of water dripping from the faucet and watching the steam from the hot bath fog every smooth surface. Sanji’s wet hair hung limply around his face, bleeding drops from the tips of each strand that ran down his neck and pooled in the hollow of his throat. Zoro hooked his elbows over the lip of the bath and stretched with a happy little groan, feeling all the tightness and ache from his muscles melting away. For a couple of tough pirates, they really did enjoy a luxury bath far too much. At last, Sanji broke the silence with a murmured comment. “All I need now is a glass of wine and this would be perfect.”

“Yeah, so you can pass out drunk in the bath and drown,” Zoro taunted.

“You have absolutely no sense of style,” Sanji shot back dryly. “A glass of wine wouldn’t get me drunk anyway.”

Zoro sniffed and sank down further into the water, almost to his chin. “So what are these errands you plan to do today?”

“Eh, I just want to pick up a few things. In the off chance we can get our hands on a boat of our own and have to fend for ourselves on the high seas.”

“Wouldn’t that require also having a log pose?”

Sanji nodded slowly. “An eternal pose. Ah, Nami was always much better at reading those, too. The two of us would probably go through hell to manage our way back to Sabaody alone, but...” He shook his head vaguely. “It’s only one possibility. I also want to check out the options for booking passage.”

“May as well,” Zoro agreed. “I’m gonna stay here. You can do all that if you want.”

Sanji closed his eyes and rested his head back against the rim of the bath. He figured as much, Zoro wouldn’t go shopping or anything if he didn’t have to. That was always one of the cook’s duties, and Sanji didn’t mind. All the better to make quick decisions without having to consult anyone. He heard the ripple of water and cracked open his uncovered eye to see why his comrade was making so much noise, not at all surprised to find him slinking closer. Having Zoro stalking him shark-like through the water with that sly smirk was actually somewhat flattering – and enticing. “Here we go again,” he muttered, although not in the least bit annoyed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were making up for lost time or something.”

“Move your leg.” Zoro didn’t hardly have to touch his knee, it was already shifting to accommodate him. He sank back down under the water over Sanji, who didn’t move other than to part his legs. “Ever have sex in the bath?” Zoro murmured as he came in close.

“Sort of.” Sanji raised his head and smirked into the face just a few inches from his. “It started in the bath, but we got out before it got too far and continued in her bed. Ah, some of those cruising yachts…you wouldn’t believe the special features...”

Zoro’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re trying to make me jealous, it won’t work,” he smirked. “I don’t care about your conquests.”

Sanji smirked right back. “What about you, _marimo_? Done this before?”

“Nah.” Zoro reached to rest his forearms on the lip of the bath on either side of Sanji’s head, leering down at him. “I like the idea, though.”

“Oi, oi. You’re smothering me.” Sanji pushed him back, but only a little so he could shift around and sit up. Zoro sank back slightly, eyeing him and waiting for his chance to pounce. Sanji eyed him back, and then relented with a huge sigh. He was relaxed, but not feeling much beyond that yet. Zoro didn’t notice, he merely took the signal and pressed close again, aiming to kiss his comrade’s neck and upper chest first. Sanji rolled his head to the side to let him, his eyes drifting closed again as lips and tongue laved drops of bathwater off his skin. Hands beneath the water roamed across his abs and up his flanks, obviously delighting in the natural nakedness of being in the bath and taking full advantage of it. Zoro’s cheek pressed against Sanji’s jaw as he worked his way up the cook’s slender neck, before he shifted back downward, sinking in the water almost to his chin in order to kiss and even bite Sanji’s collarbone just above the waterline. The way he moved, the way he hungrily tasted his comrade’s skin and possessively groped at him, made Sanji moan softly. It was that dominance again, that sense of wanting to fight back and losing control that made the sex irresistibly hotter. If Zoro was so eager this morning, Sanji was going to make him work for it, though. He bent his head and captured Zoro’s lips in a hard kiss, slinking one hand up out of the water to grasp the back of the swordsman’s head and pull him in. Zoro practically growled as he met the challenge by deepening the kiss even more, pressing his body against Sanji’s and clenching his hands firmly on slim hips beneath the water. Long legs stretched and curled around his waist, wordlessly giving approval for this to continue. And so it did for quite some time, the pair of them lazily making out in the hot bath, grazing wet fingertips over soft skin and hard muscle, mouths battling for dominance until both were breathless. At that point, it only took one deliberate stroke of his cock for Sanji to become instantly, fiercely aroused. Zoro grinned into the kiss at the feel of him getting hard right in his hand, and opened his eyes to regard his comrade’s flushed face. Sanji leaned his head back against the lip of the bath again, his chest heaving as he panted. “Don’t look so damn proud of yourself,” he breathed.

With a soft splash, Zoro pushed back a little and then bent his head to steal another lick across the cook’s chest, still grinning. “Deny it all you want,” he purred back, “but I’m damn good at what I’m doing.”

That may have been true, but Sanji wasn’t about to let him get away with thinking so smugly of himself. His legs unfolded, and in one swift move he brought up one foot and placed it on Zoro’s chest, though he didn’t kick. He simply used it to push his comrade back, giving himself some space to catch his breath and decide how to proceed. Zoro rolled with it, though his expression sobered as he wondered what was going on. The foot resting against his chest slid an inch lower, and then Sanji nodded at him. “Stand up.”

“Huh?”

“Stand up.” The foot withdrew and slipped back under the water. “I want to have a look.”

Zoro’s brow twitched, but he had an idea he might enjoy this after all, so he complied. His tanned, muscled body rose up out of the hot water in the middle of the bath, though the waterline still came to about his waist, hiding his own growing erection. Water streamed down his chest and stomach as he stood there, head cocked arrogantly, displaying himself for Sanji’s benefit. The cook sat appraising him with his visible eyebrow curled slyly, a grin of his own curving his lips, and then pushed himself up as well and stalked through the water to meet him. Each gazed at the other as the gap closed between them, eyes flicking downward and back up. Neither raised their hands to touch or grab, though Sanji came right up to Zoro and leaned against him with the barest brush of their bodies against each other. Zoro tilted his head with a jingle of his earrings, seeking another meeting of lips, but Sanji withheld it, only breathing across his companion’s cheek and lips in temptation. The closeness and near-contact got a soft noise of desire and impatience out of Zoro, to which Sanji just gave a whiff of a chuckle. His hand swished through the water and found the swordsman’s cock just beneath the surface, giving it a few short, teasing strokes. Zoro moaned again, and his eyes drifted closed. “You’re coming around,” he noted.

Sanji stiffened for the briefest moment, and then breathed a soft sigh against Zoro’s cheek. “It’s like you said,” he murmured. “Why not have a little fun, while we can.” He didn’t want to think about it right now, it didn’t seem to matter. It was just sex, wasn’t it? And he wasn’t about to let Zoro, of all people, appear better at it than him. Even if that meant taking the lead. He was done being shy; if he was going to prove himself the better lover, then he had to ply all his charms and seductions with his comrade just as if he was with a woman. Sanji curled his fingers around the other cock without hesitation and fondled him smoothly under the water, while edging closer and brushing his lips across Zoro’s jaw. They stood together like this for a few moments longer, teasing each other with barely-there touches of lips to faces, first one then the other taking the upper hand. At last, Zoro took the initiative and began to edge back toward the side of the bath where he had been sitting, taking Sanji by the arm and pulling him along. Together they sank back beneath the hot water (though it was starting to cool just a bit) and fell back into making out, sitting more side-by-side on the tiled bench underwater and entwining arms and legs. Each reached across and stroked the other, as if unconsciously entering a competition to see who was better at it, starting slow and delicately and ramping up into their own favored methods. Judging by their respective youth and virility, it was something both of them had quite a bit of practice with.

Zoro suddenly growled and pawed across Sanji’s chest, pushing him back against the rim of the pool. “I want to screw you, so hard,” he breathed across the cook’s ear. “Right here and now.”

Sanji expected himself to recoil, but instead, a flush of heat crept up from the pit of his stomach and into his face. His hand on Zoro stilled while he sat panting for breath, feeling the swordsman’s weight shift to pin him there. After a moment, he managed to whisper back, “...and?”

“Aren’t I supposed to ask your permission?”

Sanji swore under his breath. “Just do it,” he demanded, turning his head to catch Zoro’s eye. Both wore the same intense look, neither a glare nor a grin, their cheeks and earlobes red, their hair and lips wet. A heartbeat later the spell broke and their mouths were pressed together in another searing kiss.

Zoro latched his arms around Sanji’s waist and heaved, picking him up out of the bath and lunging in to lick the rivulets of water from his chest and stomach. Sanji clawed at his shoulders and the back of his head, both clinging and fighting, giving huge groaning gasps all the while. Another hard hitch and he was being shoved up onto the edge of the bath, and this time Zoro came with him, pushing him all the way onto his back. The wet tiles were cold compared to the warm bathwater, but the shock lasted only a second and then Sanji’s attention was entirely on the heavy, muscled body bearing down on him. There was a moment’s pause while they stared at each other, and then Zoro reared up to his full height and pushed his comrade’s legs wider apart with firm, insistent hands. He tested the efficacy of the water with one intrusive thumb, but Sanji hissed and swore at him with a threat to kick him off, so he stalked off through the water to find the tray of bath luxuries on the other side of the pool. Sure enough, there was a fragrant oil among the vials, that would work. Zoro was nothing if not fast and purposeful, but he knew it was right when the response was less snarl and more moan. He knelt on the bench with his legs primarily still in the bath, just the right height to reach his destination poised perfectly on the rim. Sanji was ready for him, and only gritted his teeth at the moment of entry, hissing softly at the momentary burn. He was so worked up that he welcomed the intrusion, knowing what it would become in the end, but he tensed out of instinct. Zoro’s hips began to move, pushing against resistance, his movements short but quick. He pushed Sanji’s legs wider yet, trying to open him more, but it took stopping and waiting for the body beneath him to relax enough before it became easier on both of them. Now Zoro could thrust at his own easy pace, though he still held those long legs out of the way in a show of control. Sanji pressed his hands to his forehead and tipped his head back, breathing in loud gasps and arching a little at the flickers of pleasure beginning to flare in his abdomen. It was good, but it stayed just like that for a long time, not growing any stronger. Zoro shifted around a couple of times, trying to find a better position, and then started to speed up. Sanji laid back and enjoyed it for a while, but when he got the sense that his crewmate was further along than him, he suddenly wrapped his legs around Zoro’s hips and forced him to hold still at the apex of a thrust.

Zoro jerked abruptly at the change, finding his hands unexpectedly empty and his movement arrested by a powerful leg-lock. “What the hell?”

Sanji propped himself up on an elbow and leered up at him. “You’re having too much fun. I can’t let you get ahead of me.”

Zoro was annoyed for only a moment, and then he, too, began to grin savagely. Having the cook was enjoyable; having the cook fight back was _erotic_. “Oh yeah? What do you want me to do about it, then?” He set his hands on the wet tile on either side of Sanji’s hips, leaning down over him.

Sanji pushed himself up from his elbow to his hand, sitting as far forward as he could in that position with his heels still locked behind Zoro’s back. It made things uncomfortable for a moment, and put Zoro off-balance at the same time, but then they both eased back into place and gazed at each other. Both knew how they wanted it, but it couldn’t be done right there. As if reading each other’s minds, Sanji’s legs loosened and Zoro pulled out, and then hopped up on the side of the bath to a seat. Sanji climbed on top of him without a word, nudging him against the wall of the bath for support before settling astride his thighs and positioning himself. Those strong hands were on him again, clutching his hip and squeezing his ass, but he wasn’t about to play the submissive role this time. The cook’s hands thudded into the wall on either side of his comrade’s head, and he couldn’t resist bending down to favor him with a kiss that was more teeth than lips. He could feel the tip of Zoro’s cock resting against him, just waiting to enter, but denied it until he was damn good and ready. He ground his hips forward to rub himself against Zoro’s abs, provoking him and making him groan in impatience. When the swordsman tried to grab him and pull him down onto his cock, Sanji resisted, fending off one hand and then pinning it back against the wall. Any protest was stifled under another heated kiss, and only when Zoro pulled back to breathe did Sanji finally give him what he wanted, using his own hand to guide himself there and sink down onto him.

Taking control was the spark his body needed to accelerate the process. Sanji could choose the angle that worked best, the pace, the depth. He settled with his hands braced firmly on his comrade’s shoulders, giving him a smoldering look before rocking up and back down. “Nn...yeah, that’s more like it,” he purred, starting a cautious pace.

“Ah – shit!” Zoro tried for several different handholds before settling on grabbing Sanji’s thighs. The prolonged pause had only made him want more, and resuming at last felt oh-so-good. Having the cook on top of him was a delicious turn, and he grinned eagerly as his shoulders were pushed roughly back against the wall. Sanji rode him willingly, needing only a couple of thrusts to get used to it and then slamming down onto him at a frantic pace. He clutched and pushed at Zoro’s shoulders, grunting and groaning at the effort and the results. There was no way to make this look graceful, but both were at a point where they preferred the raw passion, the groping and growling and the heated entanglement of their bodies. For his part, Zoro clung to those strong legs, kneading and encouraging, his head lifted up to watch his comrade’s face. Sanji’s wet hair swung across his cheeks as he moved, his teeth were bared and his visible eye was half-closed in hazy ecstasy. Zoro wanted to see what would happen if he stroked his partner’s cock, and so he did, pulling upward from base to tip with his fingers at a matched pace. Sanji’s mouth fell open in a gasp, and he responded by rolling his hips so that his body was both taking and giving with each rise and fall. He leaned forward, slamming his hands on the wall again, and Zoro slid down further so he could brace his feet and actually thrust up into the cook at the same time. They rocked together like this, fast and deep, their faces separated by only inches and gazing hard at each other, both panting and grunting. Zoro curled his fingers into a tight-enough grip for Sanji to thrust into, while he in turn jerked his hips upward into him. Sanji plunged down onto him at this rough angle, his gasps escalating rapidly into cries that he couldn’t control – he was, in fact, a screamer, but only for Zoro. He still had his hands braced on the tiled wall, but he tipped his head back with a yelp as he came, his body going rigid yet not stopping the motion of crashing down on the swordsman’s cock. Zoro kept going, as the brief rest had served to delay orgasm by that much, and shifted both hands to grip his comrade’s hips and hold him down – or rather, pull him down onto him. Sanji’s face contorted in the most glorious mix of pain and pleasure, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open, as the continued thrusting stretched his orgasm to the limits. He held braced in that position, letting Zoro use him to the last, taking great gulps of air to be able to withstand it. The view, more than anything, pushed Zoro the rest of the way, and he actually let out a single deep-voiced cry with the last thrust up.

Sanji wilted on top of him and slid off the wall as he felt the pressure inside, letting him finish. It took some maneuvering of his legs, but he managed to make it comfortable for the moment, despite the water cooling on his skin and the splash of semen now being shared between their bodies. He braced his hands on Zoro’s shoulders again and used them to prop himself up after a moment, though he was slow to raise his head. As he did, he caught Zoro’s eyes, and knew that this wasn’t going to stop. The pleasure was too great to give up, he didn’t want it to end. But he said nothing, and only sat there panting for a while.

Zoro understood that look; that had been ridiculously good for both of them, and if he had to be the first to admit it, so be it. The position was getting uncomfortable, though, so he tapped his hand against Sanji’s hip to signal him to get off. The cook slid sideways to disengage, and then sat on the edge of the bath to catch his breath. Without a word, Zoro slipped past him and into the water, which had cooled by now and was useless for soaking but waiting right there to help them both wash off all over again. A moment later Sanji followed, stepping gingerly down into the bath with barely a splash. First one, then the other finished washing and waded across to the spot by the tray of bath salts and oils where big, fluffy towels lay folded and waiting for them. Zoro handed Sanji one before climbing out of the bath, but otherwise said nothing and did nothing besides dry off and get dressed. The cook shrugged it off and did the same, feeling quietly relaxed thanks to the combination of a big breakfast, hot bath, and sex. He still had errands to run, but for now he just took his sweet time, slowly buttoning his shirt and tucking it in, making himself perfectly presentable as ever. That was when a hand came to rest on his shoulder, pulling gently to turn him around. He almost expected what was coming, though the hands cupping his face and the sheer passion of it took him aback. Zoro kissed him so hard that the word “kiss” seemed too delicate for the action, a union of mouths that left them both gasping. At the end, Zoro’s hands slid down his neck, over his shirt collar, and down his chest before pulling away. “You’re expecting me to say something,” the swordsman noted. “I don’t know what you want, though.”

Sanji shook his head slightly. “What makes you think I want to hear any pointless sappy words from you?”

“The way you look at me.”

Sanji’s cheeks momentarily flushed red before he shook it off. “That doesn’t mean anything. This is only for fun.”

“Yeah...” Zoro grinned rogueishly, leaning in closer for a moment. “And that was a hell of a lot of fun.” He backed off, then, tilting his head casually sideways. “You should let yourself go more often.”

He shouldered past Sanji and headed for the door; a moment later, his comrade followed after picking up their cast-off clothes. “What was that? I think I might have just heard you admit that I was good,” Sanji said flippantly, falling back on sarcasm and wit to cover emotions.

Zoro gave him an aloof smirk over his shoulder. “You’re a good lay, so at least that much of your bragging was right.”

“The rest isn’t for you to find out anyway.” Sanji went about finishing his preparations to go out, tossing the clothes in the wardrobe and fishing out a tie. The whole time, though, the tips of his earlobes were red – some part of him thrilled to hear that from Zoro for some weird reason. He could feel it in his chest, but tried to swallow it and go on with his day as if nothing had really happened. “You’re sure you don’t want to come along?” he asked as he yanked the knot of the tie up to his collar. “You get no say in the decisions I make if I have to make them alone.”

Zoro had gone to the bed and flopped on his back, with his hands laced behind his head. “Nah, go right ahead, I don’t care. I’m gonna take a nap.”

Sanji snorted at him. “You’ve only been awake a couple hours and you’re going back to sleep? Figures.”

“What can I say?” The swordsman grinned lazily. “You really wore me out.”

That required another snort in response, because Sanji didn’t believe at all that their session in the bath, as hot and strenuous as it was, would have dented Zoro’s energy in the slightest. Taking a healthy chunk of his winnings from the bet, he headed down to the front desk first to make arrangements for a second night in the swanky resort hotel (which was expensive, but nothing they couldn’t handle with their sudden windfall) and then out onto the streets of Esme to take care of many other things.

A brief walk down the line of offices at the harbor’s edge confirmed that most of them were closed today because of the festival, and the couple that were open were not the headquarters of passenger or merchant ships. Sanji made a few mental notes about which offices to check tomorrow, which ones might have the best odds at having a ship headed anywhere near Sabaody that they could board. The _Golden Lotus_ had disembarked the day before to continue its supply route, so they weren’t even around. It was only a brief setback, the pirates could stay on Esme longer if they needed to wait for a ship – albeit at a less expensive hotel. Sanji turned his energy toward his other errands, then, taking his suitcoat to a tailor to get it mended and properly cleaned and then going shopping. He was out for the better part of the afternoon, taking his time and lingering in the city-center to get a good look at the preparations for the street festival, chatting up cute store clerks and getting the lowdown on the food and the dancing slated to occur later. When he returned to the hotel with full shopping bags and a fresh-looking suitcoat, he found Zoro asleep as planned on the disheveled bed. Sanji dumped his bags on the second bed, since it didn’t look like they’d need it for the time being, and busied himself sorting and repacking for a while. Once satisfied with the arrangement, he stubbed out what was left of his cigarette to save for later and wandered past the bed, contemplating. He was really tempted to do something rude to wake Zoro up, just because he was there and it was so obvious, but in the end all he did was kick off his shoes and sprawl out next to his comrade, pausing only to loosen and remove his tie before curling up and closing his eyes to nap as well. 

Not long after Sanji had drifted off, Zoro woke up on his own, rolling over to find a warm body in bed with him. It was surprising, but not unwelcome. He shifted around and laid on his side gazing at his comrade for a while, wondering if the growing closeness between them was his imagination or not. Whatever fluctuating surface feelings had run between them, he had always held a crewmate’s respect for the cook, but it was starting to feel like something besides respect. It was easier to admire him when he was asleep like this and not running his mouth, Zoro thought, unaware that the same things had been thought about him in turn. Sanji lay beside him mostly on his back, but turned slightly away, most of his blond hair falling across his face, obscuring more than just his left eye. With his lips slightly parted and his hands loosely curled where they lay, he appeared far more vulnerable than the suave, self-assured ladies’-man ought to. Zoro couldn’t believe that he was thinking of wrapping himself around that slender body and just laying there with him, but he was at least resisting the urge for now. He was certain it wouldn’t last, anyway. They could have fun all they wanted, but the minute Sanji got a taste of a woman again, not to mention the moment they were back among the crew, near Nami and Robin, it would be over. Zoro knew this, and he didn’t try to stop it. Perhaps by then the novelty of it would wear off and he, too, would find the interest waning until he was no longer so ragingly interested in sexual conquest. It really was annoying to be thinking of sex when food, fighting, and sleep were available and more pressing. But he had slept enough for now, and if his crewmate was napping that meant it wasn’t time for food yet, so all Zoro could really do was either lay back down or get up. He let his gaze linger on Sanji’s slumbering form for a moment longer, and then did his best to slide out of bed without waking him up.

The cook only napped for about an hour, and then got up to freshen up and change before they headed out. He had to argue for a bit to get Zoro to wear something somewhat decent, despite Zoro’s insistence that the v-necked shirt he had on qualified as decent since he wasn’t naked, and eventually won his way. Sanji himself was going out in his renewed suitcoat, but no tie for that casual feel, while his comrade had settled on a linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up and his bandanna tied over the sleeve. Thanks to Sanji’s reconnaissance, he knew to tuck a little bit of money in his pocket – the food was free but the drinks were not, and if he wanted to placate Zoro they would have to buy a lot of the latter. Especially after warning him that weapons were not allowed to be carried in the square – he would have to leave his swords behind. It was a small price to pay for being fed, at least. They headed down to the grand town square where the festival was to take place right around dusk, not too early and not at all late for the best food and the start of the street dance. 

The square was left open for dancing and lit brightly with strings of paper lanterns that swayed a bit in the light wind, all radiating outward from a center pole decorated with flags and streamers. The band providing the dancing music was set up at one side, while the other three were filled with long tables with benches for seating. The food booths and vendors ran along one of the streets leading into the square, turning it into a promenade of paradise. The pirates had a look around, growing steadily more intrigued by the whole thing, and then set about building themselves the best meal they’d had in days. Much of it was fried or grilled, some of it on a stick, fresh fish and kebabs and battered things and whole ears of corn roasted in the husk. And it was all free, part of some tradition of the island that they never really did find out much about. They sat down with plates piled high, and the serving maids from all the local taverns came around to set them up with as much liquor as they could stand for a small fee. Sanji tried a little bit of everything, wanting to sample the cuisine and pick up ideas for later, while Zoro stuffed himself full of mostly meat and fish and no sweets. As long as the waitresses kept coming by and Sanji kept handing them a few beli, their tankards were never empty. They sat in the middle of one of the long tables, rubbing elbows with townsfolk who recognized Zoro as the new tournament champion and actually helping their financial situation by buying him most of his drinks. In a place like this, being treated so royally, both couldn’t help loosening up, lowering their guards, and approaching everything with a smile and a laugh. The stream of welcoming fans didn’t even bother Zoro, as long as they were going to buy him more booze – he knew there were more than enough others who weren’t happy with him ruining Wilton Fend’s winning streak out there, probably glaring at his back, but he didn’t care. Even without his swords at his hip where they belonged, he was comfortable and at ease. Sanji was in his element, ogling the serving girls and charming anyone who sat nearby to talk to him, praising the cooks and asking after some of the unique recipes. It really was a fantastic way to spend an evening.

Around the time Sanji was finishing a first course and Zoro was already thinking about refilling his plate for seconds, the music started, and within minutes townsfolk began filtering between the tables to twirl each other around in the square. It wasn’t long before Sanji slipped away to join them, approaching girls and asking them to dance and somehow succeeding every single time. Zoro didn’t give a crap about the dancing, he was there for the food and drink, and kept at it until he was full and could just sit back and drink for as long as people kept buying rounds for him. Eventually, he did get tired of being bugged and looked for a new seat, perching on the end of a bench with a good view of the square, a decent enough place to sit and savor the ale and rum provided for him. He could also keep an eye on his crewmate from there, though he wasn’t about to stop him from having his own fun. He wasn’t even jealous, as he looked across to where the cook was skillfully weaving his way across the temporary dance floor with a girl in a long skirt who was laughing happily. It was no surprise he was a good dancer, his martial arts kept him light on his feet and he always moved with a natural grace. Mix that with his charm for women and there he went, beaming brightly as he kept up with the lively dance, thanked the girl for her time, and turned to pick his next partner. He made it look effortless, it made Zoro wonder just why all these girls were falling for Sanji’s smooth moves when the two women in their crew wouldn’t give him the time of day. He didn’t begrudge his crewmate, though, this was just what he enjoyed and no amount of wallflowering from Zoro would derail him for a moment. At least it meant no one was trying to get the swordsman out there to dance, and he was content with that. He mostly watched people, keeping somewhat alert despite the amount of alcohol he had imbibed; he was relaxed, yes, but without his swords he couldn’t be completely off his guard. Once in a while a fellow sot would come sit nearby and chat, but as the night went on even those tapered off. The serving girls kept him content, though, and one even came by with a complimentary bottle from Fend’s bar. The barman was apparently around somewhere, but he never came to speak to Zoro directly. Zoro decided to save that one for last.

When he finally exhausted himself with dancing, Sanji excused himself from his latest partner’s grasp and breezed back over to where the swordsman was sitting, sliding onto the end of the bench opposite him. “What a party!” he exclaimed. “The girls are all so beautiful, the music is exciting…we really got lucky being here at this time. If only the others were here.” He leaned his elbow on the table, and his expression suddenly sobered. “They’d love this festival,” he added in a lower tone, looking away. “Usopp would be up on one of these tables, telling his tales to anyone who would listen. Luffy and Chopper would be dancing like idiots all by themselves, Brook would probably be playing with the band. Even Robin would be smiling on a night like this.”

“Don’t tell me you’re feeling guilty for having fun without them,” Zoro said with the slightest note of distaste, his nose still in his tankard.

Sanji glanced at him, and then busied himself taking out a cigarette and lighting it. “Not really guilty, no, but I suddenly realize just how much I miss them.”

Zoro reached to the bottle brought for him and popped it open. “Here, give me your mug. This is some of the home-brew from that guy I beat yesterday. Try it, it’s pretty damn good.”

Sanji did so, but the first gulp went down a lot rougher than he expected. He wrinkled his nose a bit. “Not a bad taste, but a little strong for my liking.”

“Wimp.” Zoro liked it a lot, and poured himself more than just a taste. “Fine, more for me, then.” He eyed his comrade over the tankard, watching him glance off toward the square full of whirling couples once more. “Having fun out there?”

“More than you can possibly imagine.” Sanji grinned at him. “The girls here are all so friendly and fun! I don’t mind that part one bit.”

Zoro’s wary look didn’t go away. “Are you going to try to get into one of their beds, tonight, instead of your hotel room?”

Sanji looked around at his selection, a vague sort of smile remaining on his lips. “No, I don’t think so,” he said airily, but offered no excuses or explanation why. Just that statement, and nothing more. He didn’t look at Zoro at all.

A few minutes of silence passed between them, in which Zoro set aside his empty tankard and drew the bottle to him, intending to finish it off himself if his comrade didn’t want any more. He cast an aloof look at the square and the tables nearby, checking out the people. Not all the dancers were young and single, there were a few old couples being adorable and surprisingly keeping up with the music. A couple of gruff-looking men sat alone at the next table over. A pack of younger men were having a drinking contest at the table beyond that. Then he spotted Wilton Fend himself, clear on the other side of the square, bandaged but sitting just fine and roaring with laughter among a gaggle of people. A small cluster of girls were looking towards the pirates and whispering amongst themselves, making Zoro raise an eyebrow. Sure enough, after a moment they came over in a pack, tittering and fawning up to Sanji directly. “Mr. Sanji! You’re not leaving yet, are you?” one cooed. “We want another dance!”

“Ladies!” Sanji swung towards them and grinned again, practically exuding hearts and flowers. “No, I’m not done yet. I’d love to have another dance with every one of you!” He shot up off his seat with his arms outstretched, as if gathering them all to him. Two of the girls cuddled right up to his sides.

One of the others spared a glance for Zoro. “What about your friend? Doesn’t he like to dance?”

“Eh?” Sanji smirked at his crewmate. “Nah, he’s not the type. He prefers his booze to dancing. Come on, let’s leave him to it and go have some fun…” He draped his arms around the shoulders of the two closest girls and led the whole group away, at the last minute throwing a smug smirk over his shoulder at Zoro.

The swordsman’s eyes narrowed. _Is he trying to make me jealous?_ he wondered incredulously. _Whatever, it’s not like it’s going to work. I don’t care what he does with any women._ In fact, Zoro’s favorite pastime was taunting the cook whenever he went starry-eyed over any female. It was almost a relief that whatever else they were doing with each other in private, it didn’t involve Sanji’s flowery expressions of affection – he wouldn’t have been able to take that. Zoro gladly turned his attention to his liquor, savoring the gift from Fend to the last drop and simply keeping an eye on the passersby. Still, some part of him wondered deep down inside about the declaration that his comrade had no intention of trying to sleep with any of the women he was meeting. It was strange, to be sure.

By the time he finished his drink and started looking around for something else to entertain him, Sanji was back, still glowing with a smile but alone this time. “Ah, that was nice. Well, ready to call it a night?”

“You’re done?” Zoro looked up at him in suspicion. He didn’t believe that all his womanizing crewmate wanted was one last dance with the gaggle of girls and that was that.

“Indulging in too much of a good thing will sour the taste,” Sanji said cryptically. “Besides, the wind’s picking up. I overheard someone say something about rain coming in.”

Zoro’s brow twitched, but he couldn’t deny that the strings of lanterns were starting to bobble and sway a lot more wildly, casting jittery shadows across the square. Some of the men further down the table had abandoned a poker game because their cards were blowing away. It didn’t deter a number of the festival-goers, though, quite a few were still laughing and dancing and carrying on, and the band was still playing. “Stay if you want,” the swordsman decided, getting up. “I can find my way back to the hotel by myself. I don’t need your company.”

“No you can’t,” Sanji said flippantly. “I’m serious, I’ve had my fill and I’m satisfied. I was going to head back anyway whether you want to or not.”

“Fine.” Zoro was having a hard time believing him, but there was no sense for them to get into an argument about it. Not when he was feeling quite relaxed from all the alcohol and good food – his suspicions weren’t enough to get upset over. Whatever the cook wanted to do or didn’t want to do, it didn’t matter to him. They weren’t joined at the hip, after all. Zoro tossed his head to indicate that he was ready to leave and Sanji should go along with him, but before he could step away from the table, Sanji grabbed his sleeve and redirected him toward the correct route back to the hotel.

They walked most of the way in silence, keeping pace with each other but far enough apart that they didn’t even rub elbows. Sanji was still smoking casually, the wisp of smoke whisking rapidly away in the wind. Zoro’s right hand twitched a couple of times, missing the swords that usually sat at that hip for him to rest it on. It was he who finally broke the silence. “Oi,” he said in a low tone. “Do you think those guys want to mug us for the prize money?”

“Maybe.” Sanji took a long drag off his cigarette and blew smoke idly into the air to let the wind carry it off. “Or else they’re after your bounty, Mr. Couldn’t-Keep-His-Identity-Secret.”

Both of them had noticed the pair of men following them almost right away. Even among crowds of festival patrons coming and going, the behavior of the two strangers was instantly noticeable to two pirates who were accustomed to looking over their shoulders. And yet, they didn’t stop or change pace at all, continuing on toward the hotel as if nothing was wrong. Once they had gone some distance from the town square and were no longer surrounded by civilians, Sanji and Zoro stopped at the same time and slowly turned to regard the pair coming up behind them. Zoro recognized them as having been sitting amongst the people at the next table earlier that night. The strangers hesitated, not expecting to be confronted, but continued on towards them anyway. “Pretty stupid move, using your real name in a well-known fighting tournament...Roronoa Zoro,” one sneered.

“Two of the Straw Hat pirates,” the other said. “Today must be our lucky day. Two of the highest-paying targets, no less.”

Sanji heaved a tired sigh. “Bounty hunters,” he realized dryly. “Is it just the two of you, or you have some kind of gang here to back you up?”

The two strangers paused and looked at each other, then at their prey with boggled faces. “Uh, just us,” the first man answered. “Why would we share the bounty with more people?”

“Oh, good,” Sanji smirked. “Then this won’t take long.” Beside him, Zoro shared his grin.

The two bounty hunters just stood and stared, clearly having no idea what they had gotten into by going after pirates with such high bounties. Sanji sprang from his place and had his foot in the first man’s face before he could even get out a word of challenge, and a heartbeat later Zoro followed him, swinging a fist hard into the second man’s gut. The first bounced a couple of times on the cobblestones and lay groaning, but the second managed to pull a pistol even as he fell to his knees. Zoro grabbed it recklessly and yanked it out of his hand, tossing it aside before kicking the bounty hunter down. Neither pirate even broke a sweat, the bounty hunters were down that quickly and left on the side of the street. Sanji brushed down his coat, Zoro sniffed arrogantly, and the two of them resumed their walk back to the resort hotel.

“So that answers your question,” Sanji remarked about a block later. “Here’s hoping they were the only ones on the island.”

“Even if they’re not, it doesn’t matter,” Zoro said placidly. “None of them would be anywhere near as strong as we are. It’s an annoyance, nothing to be worried about.”

“Exactly – I don’t feel like being annoyed.” Sanji stroked his chin thoughtfully, tipping his head up toward the cloudy sky. “Although, I wonder if we can use this to our advantage…”

“Hmm?” Zoro shot him a glance, but didn’t interfere otherwise. If his comrade could think of something to their benefit, he would go along with it.

When they reached the hotel, the clerk at the front desk greeted them warmly and asked if they had a good time at the festival – as did most of the locals, they were extraordinarily eager to please tourists and make sure they enjoyed Esme’s pride and joy. Sanji immediately put on a huffy demeanor and snarled, “No, not when my client has to be constantly looking over his shoulder and expecting an attack!”

The clerk was surprised and nonplussed. “Oh no! What happened, are you all right?”

“Fine,” Zoro said lazily.

“No thanks to the men who jumped us on our way back and tried to mug us,” Sanji spat. “And my client without his weapons! Luckily we were able to fend them off, but I don’t feel safe on this island anymore. Why, it’s enough to ruin a man’s vacation! I’m going to tell everyone on the circuit not to bother because they don’t want outsiders winning their prizes here.”

The clerk flipped out and ran to comfort them, begging Sanji to tell him what he could do to make it better (and presumably head off any bad rumors about Esme). Sanji huffed appropriately and made noise about the security in this hotel being lax and anyone off the street being able to get in and try to steal their winnings or rough up the foreign fighter if they pleased, so they ought to just transfer hotels. The clerk played right into his hands and, flailing, put up the offer of another free night just to keep them happy. After some grumbling and fussing Sanji said he’d _think about it,_ and the clerk went back to his desk somewhat relieved. Halfway up the stairs, Zoro eyed his comrade sideways to find him beaming smugly. “How stupid was that guy to fall for that line?”

“Pretty damn stupid,” Sanji admitted. “But it turned out all right, didn’t it? Now we don’t have to move again. I’ll tell him in the morning I accept his offer, so we’re pretty much on the money to stay here until we can get passage on a ship.”

“Better look into that tomorrow,” Zoro sighed, stepping ahead to unlock the door. “I don’t think your ridiculous schemes are going to keep working. Our luck won’t hold forever.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Contrary to the ruse Sanji had just pulled, the hotel security was just fine and their room was completely undisturbed. Locking the door behind them ensured it stayed that way. Zoro self-consciously went to brush his fingertips over the hilts of his swords, which were resting against the wall near the bed where he left them the night before, while Sanji unbuttoned his coat and hung it up. He paused next to the second bed, which was still covered in shopping bags and luggage and half of their things, since the search for something “decent” for Zoro to wear had made him tear his perfect packing job apart and leave it there. He really didn’t feel like trying to condense the mess in order to move it off the bed so he could sleep. Zoro passed close behind him on his way to the bathroom. “Just share the one bed,” he said resignedly. “Don’t act like you don’t want to.”

“I don’t!” Sanji retorted at his retreating back. “But I don’t want to clean up this mess right now, either. It’s late.”

“Uh huh.” Zoro still didn’t believe him one bit.

He came out a few minutes later, unbuttoning his shirt, to find Sanji still picking through the clothes strewn all over the second bed, defiant to the last. Zoro completely ignored him, peeling off his top and haramaki and leaving them on the floor before turning back the blankets and sprawling in the bed as he pleased. He had had a good night, and wasn’t going to ruin it by playing stupid games over the bed or their relationship right now. He relaxed in the comfortable bedding with a deep sigh, and eventually rolled onto his back to luxuriate – and gloat, if he happened to catch his crewmate’s eye. He caught Sanji undressing, and laid there with his arms tucked under his head watching with a leer. Generally speaking, Zoro didn’t have any particular favorite thing to look for in a person, male or female. He could appreciate a beautiful woman in his own way, as a whole, though he didn’t necessarily consider one specific thing appealing about them, nor did he stop and take notice of them. If one was pointed out to him, he would silently agree or disagree with little assessment and go along his merry way. The same went for men, the few that he had bedded – there wasn’t anything particularly attractive about them that caught his eye. Even now, as he ogled Sanji from across the room, he wasn’t thinking necessarily about whether or not the guy was good-looking. Oh, sure, _he_ thought he was, and there were a fair number of nameless girls who thought likewise, but Zoro wasn’t going looking for something in particular to focus on. For now, it was probably the cook’s build that had his attention – and his hand sliding down under the covers. His legs weren’t the only part of Sanji that were muscular and powerful, his upper body had to be strong enough to support his weight for his acrobatics, as well as withstand the impact of his kicks. He was slender, yes, but all muscle, Zoro could see them flexing smoothly under his skin as he shrugged off his shirt and wrestled into a thin t-shirt for bed. His back, his shoulders, his compact abs, it was the fine-honed body of a warrior that usually stayed hidden underneath the fancy shirts and suits. And that, if anything, was what Zoro liked. He laid there and privately enjoyed the view, warm and comfortable and full of food and alcohol, eyes hazily half-closed. Sanji dropped his trousers and decided he didn’t need to put on anything else, tossing them on the bed and then heading into the bathroom. At that, Zoro closed his eyes and smiled smugly. There was no way that second bed was getting cleaned off.

Sanji prowled back out a few minutes later, doused the lights, and slid into bed with his crewmate without a word passing between them. Zoro was already half asleep and didn’t seem to notice. About then, Sanji heard the soft patter of rain against the window near their heads. Clearly, they had made it back just in time. He rolled over to listen, since the curtains were already drawn, and then nestled down beside Zoro without touching him. At least, until he could tell by the rhythm of his breathing that the swordsman was asleep. Only then did he allow himself to creep a hand up onto Zoro’s shoulder to make it more comfortable to lay in that position. His chin followed, and he fell asleep shortly after.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More incredible sex, and a sudden change of fortunes. Some bad news is uncovered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: the names Egan, Setsu, Nirva, and Obel Maritime Trading are borrowed from the Suikoden universe...but this is not a crossover. Just a lazy borrowing from someone who already made up enough original characters for one story.

The insistent knocking of room service finally woke both pirates late in the morning. They hadn’t intended on sleeping that long, but something about the bed and the room was just so comfortable that neither cared much about getting up. Zoro blinked his eyes open, becoming slowly aware of the knocking, and then shifted his glance to investigate why there was a mess of blond hair immediately in his line of sight. During the night, he and Sanji had curled up together facing each other, arms tangled and trapped beneath each other. Sanji’s head was resting against his chest, and he had one arm flung over his comrade, but to be fair Zoro likewise had his arms curled around the slender cook as if to keep the source of warmth close at hand, with his face pressed to Sanji’s forehead. As he stirred, trying to decide what to do about the annoying attendant at the door, Sanji mumbled under his breath and nuzzled closer, not even aware of who he was snuggling at the moment. Zoro sighed and thought about prying him off or waking him up, but he rather liked things quiet and easy so early in the morning (even if it wasn’t so early anymore), so he extracted himself as best he could and stomped over to the door to take care of the interruption. The waiter just about jumped out of his skin when the door was forcefully opened in front of him and Zoro’s irate face poked out, and all he needed was a terse, “Come back later!” to be banished without incident. Zoro managed to keep from slamming the door behind him, but he did lock it with some satisfaction before turning to go back to bed. The room was dimmer than the previous morning, and he could hear a heavier rain drumming on the windows. A quick peek through the curtain confirmed that it was dark and stormy out – the perfect kind of day to stay cocooned in warm blankets. Zoro padded back to the bed and stood gazing at the slumbering cook for a moment, noticing that he had rolled over. In order to settle back into a comfortable position, Zoro was forced to spoon up against his back. It was equally as nice and warm, at least, with far less chance of arms getting numb underneath bedmates’ bodies, he figured. It wasn’t a bad place to be.

A few minutes later Sanji awoke, stirring a little before tilting his head to verify his position. He didn’t seem to have an issue, but he was still somewhat groggy and there was a different issue he didn’t want to exacerbate just yet, so he dropped his head right back down and stayed there. “Did you hear something?” he mumbled.

“Room service,” Zoro grunted. “Told ‘em to come back later.”

“The hell did you do that for? What if I was hungry?”

“Are you?”

Sanji didn’t answer that, since he really wasn’t. He noticed how dark the room was, though. “...what time is it?”

“Not so early. It’s storming out, though.” Zoro was perfectly content remaining there, judging by the way he rested his chin and lips against the cook’s neck and heaved a quiet sigh.

“Mm.” Rain would make going out onto the streets less favorable. Sanji really needed to get out and book passage, he knew, but if it was that stormy, it could wait. He felt no sense of urgency, and the warm bed sucked away any ambition he had. Thus, he didn’t push Zoro off him or wrestle out of the embrace, instead closing his eyes as if to go back to sleep. A hand slid down his body, and before he could react, had discovered what he was trying to hide. Zoro chuckled deeply in his ear, making Sanji want to elbow him in the gut. “Oi, oi,” he warned.

“Good morning to you, too,” the swordsman teased, closing his hand around the clear case of morning wood and giving it an encouraging squeeze. Sanji writhed a little with a soft gasp, but didn’t fight it. Zoro buried his face in his comrade’s neck and murmured, “I’m getting an idea...”

“Nnh...shit.” All it took was the suggestion and Sanji’s mind began racing, envisioning another romp like yesterday, and his body responded in kind. He managed to roll over and then pushed against Zoro, shoving him onto his back and settling on top of him before bending his head and kissing him, morning breath be damned. Zoro received him eagerly, cupping his hands around Sanji’s face and pulling him in to be thoroughly kissed awake. It was softer and slower than expected, full of lingering pauses to start before they both seemed to sink deeper into each other. Sanji had one arm on the bed beside Zoro’s face, but the other he hooked around the swordsman’s thick chest and under his shoulder. In turn, Zoro splayed his hand over the right side of Sanji’s face as they kissed, pushing back errant strands of blond hair and brushing his thumb across that cheekbone. As their session intensified, Sanji subtly ground his hips down against his comrade to ensure that he stayed hard, and maybe got Zoro started as well. His efforts were rewarded with a growl against his lips and a hand up under his t-shirt, yanking it up his back. He resisted the demand, though, and simply kept kissing, tempering the eager passion with some of his patient techniques and moving from lips to cheeks, chin, jaw, and neck. Zoro’s heated gasps sounded loud in his ear in the otherwise quiet room, and the hand on his face directed Sanji where to kiss next as he explored. There was an earlobe to tug and suck on, thick neck muscles to trace with his tongue, and the hollow of Zoro’s throat that deserved a firm kiss. Sanji couldn’t stop himself, he kept moving lower seeking more to taste and toy with, the warm musk of the swordsman’s skin keeping him interested instead of turning him off. He felt Zoro’s lips in turn brush his cheek and temple, and the hand on his face moved into his hair. Purring softly under his breath, Sanji continued on, gentling his kisses as he reached the starting end of Zoro’s scar. He had been there to witness its birth, he remembered all too well – and yet it had become a part of the man, an identifier, nothing to be distressed or disturbed by. Sanji traced his way down it with his lips, shoving back the blankets with his body as he moved lower yet and stopping when he reached taut ab muscles. Both of Zoro’s hands were curled in his hair now, and his body heaved with a delighted sigh at the soft touch of lips grazing down the length of his scar. Sanji remained there briefly, nibbling small kisses across his companion’s chest, and then pushed himself up on his hands to reposition. Zoro tugged at his shirt again, and this time Sanji let him yank it off over his head before sliding back against his chest and bending his head to resume the kissing. Zoro clutched him around the torso, wrapping one arm around his ribcage and the other across his lower back, with a hand intruding down his briefs while his tongue snaked eagerly into his comrade’s mouth. Sanji fought back, using his knees to part Zoro’s legs and settling down firmly atop him in the dominant position, kissing ferociously back. His hands constantly roamed the swordsman’s body, alternating between caressing his skin and pulling at his muscles. He ground his hips down again, and this time Zoro was forced to break off the kiss for a gasp in reaction. Sanji snickered quietly. “Are you awake, yet?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Zoro crooked one knee and spread his legs further apart, letting his comrade feel for himself. It was only the beginning, though, they were both fresh from sleep and taking longer to get properly aroused. That simply meant that they had more time to grope and kiss, to enjoy each other’s bodies in the moment and less as a means to an end. Not that they weren’t working to get each other hard; Zoro kneaded Sanji’s ass through his briefs and clenched the other hand on the back of his neck, while Sanji raked his fingers through short green hair and snuck the other hand down to finger a nipple. The whole time their mouths remained melded together, kissing as deeply and thoroughly as they knew how. It took a while before they began writhing against each other, pressing their clothed groins together to take things from mere playing to something more urgent. At that, even their kisses became erratic, lips and teeth grazing chins and necks, Zoro’s earrings jangling wildly from being repeatedly hit, both of them heaving quiet grunts and groans as they battled. Zoro suddenly yanked at his partner’s briefs, trying to get them off, but Sanji reached down, snatched his wrist, and pulled that hand away. His legs moved quickly to trap Zoro and keep him from flipping their positions, a knee pressing under his thigh to keep his bent leg spread wide. Zoro broke off the kiss with a grunt and then a low, dangerous chuckle. “Oh? Is that how you want it this time?”

Sanji deliberately maneuvered the arm he had caught until it was over Zoro’s head and pressed into the pillow. Then, he began to grin back, his uncovered eye narrowing slyly. “Damn right I do,” he breathed in response. “It’s my turn.”

As they laid there staring each other down from inches apart, Zoro began to stroke his fingers through the hair on the back of Sanji’s neck. He caught his breath and smirked widely. “Yeah, all right. Let me up for a minute, though, I gotta take care of something.”

Grunting in frustration, Sanji let go of his wrist and pushed himself up enough for Zoro to slide out from under him. The swordsman stole a kiss on his way out of the bed, and then sauntered off across the spacious room to the bathroom. Sanji sighed and flopped onto his side, unable to really complain about that kind of interruption, though he did give himself a couple of languid strokes through his briefs to keep from relaxing too much in the meantime. At some point he decided Zoro was taking too long and sat up, but then the door opened and his comrade was back, his pants hanging open and held up in one fist. As he approached the bed, Zoro let his pants drop to the floor and kicked them away, continuing on fully naked and just hard enough to be noticed. Sanji sat watching him intently as he crawled up from the end of the bed and rolled easily onto his back, handing his partner something as he did. It was the vial of bath oil they had used yesterday. Sanji set it on the table next to the bed and finally doffed his briefs so they could continue, and then slid over on top of Zoro to reassume the position. Most of the blankets from their nice, warm nest had been kicked aside by now, but they both still managed to sneak their feet underneath some as they settled back into a rhythm, starting with kisses and working their way back up to groping and grinding. Sanji rose on his knees a little in order to lean forward and favor Zoro with his fiercest, deepest kiss, biting and then sucking on his lower lip as he pulled away. The swordsman’s callused hands tangled in his hair again, pulling him close and then pushing roughly to get him to move on to other spots. He didn’t, though, he only leaned in until their noses were touching and stared down into dark eyes, silently delighting in the way Zoro’s breath came in hard gasps and his pulse raced. One of those hands slid down over Sanji’s ear, across his cheek, and then grasped his scruffy chin to pull his lips close for a lick. He permitted it, but then tipped his face up before Zoro could demand any more than that. That got an even further growl out of Zoro, though all he did was stroke his thumb roughly across Sanji’s goatee. It provoked a teeth-baring grin out of the cook. “So,” he purred, “I see you’re hungry to get on with it.”

“Shut up,” Zoro murmured with a similar grin. “You like it rough and you know it.”

Chuckling under his breath, Sanji lowered himself down until every part of him touched every part of Zoro, arms and shoulders, chests, groins, legs. Zoro had to let go of his chin to accommodate him, but wrapped his arms around his comrade’s torso instead. Sanji offered his mouth for a slow, wet, heated kiss and then smirked again. “Maybe I do,” he finally responded. “Maybe not right now, though. I’ve got other ideas.”

“Eh?” Zoro was rather surprised to note that they were lying so comfortably together as if this was normal, and trailed his fingertips down the cook’s spine to gauge his reaction. “You’re talking like this is going to be a regular thing between us.”

Sanji lowered his gaze briefly, so as not to meet Zoro’s eyes. “I’m not making any promises,” he said after a pause, his tone low and quiet. “But we keep ending up in the same bed, and it’s not an accident.”

“No, it’s not.” Zoro nestled his head back down in the pillow, enjoying the moment to catch his breath. “You’re on top, this time. Better make the most of it.”

Sanji purred in wordless response, thinking nothing of the agreement or the cooperation or the splendid way their bodies fit together so well. He pushed himself up on his elbows for a few more sensuous kisses, and then shifted a hand to touch and explore, sliding it down Zoro’s flank, mapping the trailing end of his scar, then finally moving down his hip to the center to find his erection. He didn’t really need to work to get his partner even more aroused, it was mostly just for his own satisfaction, knowing and feeling the results of his ardent seduction. Touching another man’s cock was still new to him, but he showed no signs of squeamishness any longer, particularly because he could see the effect it had on the otherwise stoic swordsman. Zoro actually blushed, being under him in that position this time. A few good strokes wiped the grin off his face, too, because he had to gasp and breathe. His hands tightened on Sanji’s arms, squeezing the whipcords of muscle that were his biceps. Well pleased with himself, Sanji sat up and reached for the bottle of bath oil, having to disengage from his comrade’s grip in order to do so. Zoro followed the flex and stretch of his body with exploring fingertips of his own, making the cook squirm as he brushed a spot on his ribs that apparently tickled. “Oi, none of that,” Sanji warned as he sat back down, perfectly positioned between Zoro’s legs. “Unless you want me to get rough.”

“Maybe I do,” Zoro taunted, grinning again. “I didn’t know you were ticklish.”

“There’s a lot about me you don’t know.” Sanji held up the bottle between two fingers, inspecting the quantity of oil left inside. “Do you have a particular technique for this? Or is it just, the more, the better?”

The grin faded. “Well, use enough to make it easy,” Zoro replied as if it were obvious – and wary that it might not be. “I don’t know, just...I usually go half-and-half. Some for you, some for me.”

“Oil the sword _and_ the sheath?” Sanji shrugged. “Makes sense, I suppose.”

Zoro gave him an unimpressed look even while he uncapped the bottle and sniffed the oil. “Your dick is not a sword.”

“It was a metaphor!” His irritation ebbing instantly, Sanji smirked and trailed his hand up his impressive erection, calling attention to it. “You say that like you don’t want it after all.”

“Only if you know how to use it.” Zoro folded his arms under his head; two could play this game, and these two could keep it going all day. “So. Show me what you’ve got, then.”

Suitably challenged, Sanji had no intention of backing out now. Even if he was taking each step slowly, he was committed to going through with it, mostly because he wasn’t going to let Zoro continue believing he was the braver, more willing, and more open-minded of the two. He shifted his free hand to his companion’s cock for a moment, palming it and gently fondling, and then moved directly to the opening below. A gentle touch was enough to see if he would be able to actually do it – and enjoy it – while likewise gauging the swordsman’s readiness. Zoro’s eyes drifted closed, and the lazy smile remained on his lips. Sanji fingered him lightly, remembering what it was like for him in turn, and then got down to it, dipping his long fingers in the bottle of oil and probing curiously. Zoro grunted a bit, and his cheeks bore a tint of red, but his brow twitched. “You don’t have to be so cautious about it. Just get it done so we can keep going.”

“I’ll go at whatever pace I feel like going,” Sanji said, eyeing him while he worked. He normally wouldn’t have gone so slow for a passionate fling, but this was new territory and had to be appropriately explored. Although, he wasn’t personally getting anything out of this for the moment, so he added a little more oil and stuck two fingers in to make sure there was enough. The way that small opening swallowed his long, thin fingers made him flush in anticipation of it taking his cock shortly, and he gave Zoro just what he wanted, hurrying through the rest of the preparation and setting the nearly-empty bottle aside out of the way. Zoro lounged beneath him, crooking his leg fully and leaving himself wide open, almost daring Sanji to take him. As he slid back into place, Sanji looked him over and hesitated, eager for the act itself but not sure how to proceed. Sensing it, Zoro reached up to him and pulled his face down for a lingering kiss, licking across his lips. It was a welcome push; Sanji sank down over him and kissed him hard, allowing their bodies to touch and their erections to meet, using those light sensations to draw himself in deeper. Hands splayed across his back and roamed downward, pushing his hips down so they would grind together. With a growl in his throat, Sanji attacked his partner’s neck and collarbone with wet kisses, pushing his hips down against Zoro’s until his oiled cock slid against the other and Zoro gasped out loud. The heat where their bodies met was good, but Sanji needed more. He tucked a hand down between them and curled both heads into his fist, rubbing them against each other with short, hard jerks.

Zoro breathed a snarl and clenched a fist in Sanji’s hair, pulling his face up closer to his own. “Fuck me,” he demanded, able to feel the hot, velvety skin, the slick oil, the nudge of balls against his ass, everything. “No more fooling around, just do it!”

“Oi, who’s on top here?” Sanji grinned at the demand, it meant he was doing things right. Zoro was beginning to pant beneath him, and the fist in his hair tugged roughly. He scraped his teeth along the swordsman’s jaw and savored the taste of his skin, his scruffy chin scratching at Zoro’s throat as he moved. The hand at his lower back pressed harder, trying to get him to move, so he wriggled a little before withholding the contact, raising his hips and taking his hand away. Zoro grabbed for his shoulders, but Sanji was quick and caught his wrists, bending them both back into the pillow. He gave his comrade a long, leering look from his superior position, feeling the body beneath him shift and try to rise to meet him. He had toyed enough, though, and was ready, so this time, he repositioned his knees and made to enter. He let go of one arm and guided himself to the opening, pushing Zoro’s leg as wide as he could as he gave the first thrust in. It all caught up to him in that moment, hearing Zoro’s deep groan of satisfaction – he was taking, leading, no matter how much the other commanded him from where he lay. Sanji’s body flushed hot, and he suddenly plunged through the resistance and seated himself as deeply as he could. He only paused for a moment to appreciate the sensation before he began to thrust, going slow only because the body beneath him was so tight. It was literally breathtaking, Sanji let out a gasp that heaved his whole chest, his back flexing to power his hips. He still had one of Zoro’s wrists pinned, keeping them both in a good position for the starting pace. For his part, Zoro knew where to put his legs, though when Sanji’s free arm hooked under his knee and helped spread him wider, he grinned to himself. It had been far too long since he’d had it like this, and it was welcome.

It didn’t take long for them to accelerate the pace, although Sanji took care not to just slam it in and finish fast. He was eager to get this done, done right and done well, and make it worth it, but the latter desire meant he couldn’t rush it. He let go of the other wrist and sat back, pausing only briefly to hoist Zoro’s leg up onto his shoulder. His comrade breathed a soft moan at the way it felt to have him shifting around like that, sunk deep but giving little hitches out and in while he repositioned; hearing that, Sanji leaned in hard and pushed that leg back almost to Zoro’s chest, the way he had done to Sanji once. It brought their faces inches apart, but Sanji bent his head and licked the sweat from his partner’s chest instead as he slowly resumed the motion of his hips. Growling, Zoro hooked his arms around his companion’s shoulders and held him down, digging his fingertips into Sanji’s back with more pressure as the pace sped up again. It was almost an embrace, a close, intimate melding of bodies made hotter by the smooth thrusts now that Sanji found it much easier to go harder and deeper. There was a hand in his hair again, which made him chuckle darkly. They were panting in each other’s faces, hands were grabbing and kneading and holding on tightly to whatever they could. Then, Sanji could feel the hips beneath his start to lift to meet him, as best they could. They were seeking something he wasn’t providing, so he slowed once more and pulled back, almost completely out, if only to let Zoro have the use of his leg again. The release made Zoro uncurl his whole body, he let go of shoulders and hair and stretched out, deliberately lifting his hips up to push himself back onto Sanji’s cock. The cook groaned, and then grabbed those hips and held him still. Every attempt at taking control back from him was met with even more aggression from Sanji, and that particular move made him want to get downright rough. He pushed in as deep as he could and then held there, sitting back on his heels with Zoro’s lower half splayed before him, available for him to toy with at will. For now, though, all he did was lightly stroke the base of the erection laying across his comrade’s abdomen and leer.

Zoro rested an arm across his own forehead as he laid there catching his breath, even though the light, deliberate touch in that one spot was making it harder to do so. “Not done with me already, are you?” he panted, doing his best to provoke his partner.

“Nobody’s come yet.” Sanji was himself trying to catch his breath while he thought up ways to prolong the pleasure. For the briefest moment he thought he should have been more uncomfortable about finding himself here, in this position exactly, but it passed. The fact that it felt _so good_ and he was (in his own estimation) doing pretty well at showing himself to be as good at it just as if it were a woman beneath him overrode any hesitation. He drew back his hands and then leaned forward, setting them on the bed instead on either side of Zoro’s torso, forcing the muscular body to bend with him. It was no great stretch, Zoro crooked his knees and withstood it just fine, reaching to slide his hands up Sanji’s arms to grip and squeeze his biceps. From there, they could gaze at each other all they wanted, and against his will Sanji felt a blush creeping into his face from the entranced expression on the swordsman’s face. “Maybe I’m being too gentle with you,” he murmured, clearing his throat.

“Don’t feel like you have to be.” Zoro heaved a slight chuckle, which traveled to Sanji through their coupled bodies and felt so strange and yet so good. “I can take anything you can dish out.”

“Yeah, I bet you can.” Sanji shifted one arm again, putting his hand closer to Zoro’s head and bending him even further, in order to lower his head and steal a kiss. There was more than one way to show domination, and so he did, controlling the pace and choosing when to get back to it. When his lips and tongue had drawn another long groan from his comrade, he finally gave another thrust, out and back in, as a preface to what would come. Zoro’s breath hitched at that, and Sanji purred in his throat in glee. “Oh, I see it, now. You want me to go harder and faster, hm?”

“I want you to get _on_ with it,” Zoro hissed between his teeth.

“And yet, you’re not in charge,” Sanji said, almost sing-songing proudly. He slid his other hand down across Zoro’s abs as if to grasp his erection and pump it some more, but instead, he pressed it to one thigh and pushed his leg down, widening him to receive. “If you were a woman I would be sweet and ask you want you wanted, but you already gave me control. The rest is up to me.”

A red flush crept up Zoro’s neck into his cheeks and earlobes, but not from anger. The hand on his thigh was still gentle, fingertips caressing, a ridiculously erotic touch even as it demanded he stretch his body wider. “Don’t you dare treat me like a woman,” he growled. “You want me to flip you over and reverse this whole thing?”

“Try it and you won’t get more of this.” Sanji rolled his hips again, pleased at the reaction he got. He had finally found the right angle, or so he gathered when Zoro grunted deeply and bit his lip. As he drew back, Sanji trailed his lips down the center of that broad chest, over the scar, and then sat back on his knees. He placed each hand on either leg, moved them up behind Zoro’s knees, and then suddenly pushed hard to bend him back. An instant later he was thrusting in again, slowly at first but very shortly increasing the pace. He really had gotten a good angle, and it didn’t take long for the swordsman to start gasping for breath all over again. He stretched his arms over his head and grabbed for a hand-hold, finding nothing but pillows and sheets. Sanji had him pinned down and well in control, his hips moving in a steady rhythm, a lazy smirk on his lips as he watched the tough swordsman turn into a complete mess thanks to his efforts. A mess who mostly grunted and winced, but that was his way. There was something about the gritted teeth and the harsh gasps he tried to rein in that was enthralling to watch. The cock inside him was hitting a good spot, it was taking everything Zoro had to maintain his sense of self-control for as long as he could. It didn’t last, of course. Sanji alternated his deep plunges with short, fast strokes until Zoro’s grunts became deep-voiced moans and his body started to tense and curl. Reaching for something over his head wasn’t enough, instead he hunched his shoulders forward and tried to get a hold of Sanji himself. The cook bent forward to meet him halfway, butting his forearms under Zoro’s knees and speeding up even more until the soft slap of his balls against the other’s ass filled the quiet room. Zoro clutched his arms, digging in with his thumbs hard enough to leave bruises. Once more Sanji shifted his knees, a little further back now to slam down into his partner as ferociously as he could. His wiry body was as taut as a bowstring, his back flexing, his hips dancing, and he felt himself close to breaking. His head was bent low and his blond hair hung down to frame his face, his lips drawn back in an eager snarl. Without slowing for even an instant he pulled one arm back and snuck his hand between their bodies, fisting and squeezing Zoro’s erection a few times until he could feel the swordsman’s body tremble and then snap. The hand on his arm nearly yanked him down as Zoro pulled them closer together at the moment of orgasm, the growl in his throat escalating to a gruff shout. Sanji wasn’t there yet, though, he was so close and yet it eluded him, so he kept going, the sweat beading on his neck and back. Then, Zoro clutched his shoulders, and he abruptly came on the spot. For a few minutes afterward, neither could move, and the sound of their gasps seemed noisy as they both held there panting. At last, Zoro fell back into the bedding, though his grasp only slid back down Sanji’s arms and didn’t let go. The motion called Sanji’s attention to their position, to the heat and the wet, sticky feel, to the sweat and the sound of rain on the windows. He withdrew, and then fell against Zoro in complete defeat.

The chest beneath Sanji’s head still heaved for breath, but then hands curled into his hair and massaged the back of his neck. He was aware that he was only making the mess worse, pressing sweat and semen between their bodies, probably fouling the sheets as well, but he didn’t care. He was exhausted, and at the same time content. The part of him that tried so hard to deny the connection between him and Zoro was down for the count, leaving him lying there mostly pleased with limbs sprawled everywhere. Zoro grunted a bit as he stretched his legs back out and tucked his toes under the mussed-up blankets, but then settled down and seemed inclined to stay there for a while. His hand on the back of Sanji’s neck rubbed gently in a slow, soothing rhythm. “Shit,” he breathed after a bit. “That…that was nice.”

“Nice,” Sanji repeated with his face pressed to his comrade’s chest. “Is that all?”

“What do you want?” Zoro smirked to himself. “Sweet nothings?”

“Maybe tell me what you really think.”

There was a sniff, and then, “Fine. You fucked me into the bed and I liked it. Is that more like it?”

Sanji’s lips curled into a smile. Really, the caress combing through his hair told him more than that, but it was nice to hear. He lifted his head and folded one arm underneath his chin so he could peer at Zoro. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Zoro made a face at him, but let it slide. “So much for that pink island causing anything. I’d like to see you blame that now.”

Sanji’s gaze shifted away sheepishly. “I wasn’t going to say anything like that. Not like it matters.” He sighed and closed his eyes. The soft drumming of the rain became louder just then, adding to the peaceful mood. It was hard to resist feeling a little something, just then, but Sanji did his damnedest. His fingertips rubbed lightly across Zoro’s collarbone. “It’ll just be...for now,” he suggested. “It’s not a relationship or anything, it’s just...”

“Using each other for now,” Zoro said to finish his sentence, perhaps more bluntly than the cook would have. “I’m fine with that.”

Sanji murmured under his breath in agreement. Zoro’s arms suddenly came around him, tightening and pulling him up closer. He lifted his head in surprise, and then had to quickly stifle a soft whimper as his comrade pulled him into a kiss. It wasn’t supposed to be anything, he wasn’t supposed to feel, but for a flash of a moment, he did. His arms slid around Zoro’s neck, and when they broke off, he remained lying there with his forehead pressed to the other’s. _Dammit, it shouldn’t be like this,_ he tried to tell himself, but it was no use. The irritating swordsman had touched him, kissed him, and laid him more in the past week than any woman had done for him since leaving the _Baratie_ , and that was just sad. He groaned a little in defeat, but all those thoughts swirling about his head were not able to move him to get off of Zoro. Besides, it was comfortable and warm. As much as he wanted to go wash up, it seemed better to lie there and pull the blankets back over them to rebuild the cocoon. Zoro wasn’t pushing him off, anyway, because he thought the same thing.

They stayed in bed a while longer, neither speaking nor sleeping, the lingering caresses between them kept low-key and not at all indicative of any actual feelings between them. Not one bit. But even with the darkened room and the rain and thunder outside, and a warm bed, they couldn’t stay there forever. Both were hungry, and both needed to clean up. Sanji extracted himself first, and took an extra minute or two after washing to inspect himself in the mirror as if searching for some kind of clue for why he kept acting and thinking this way. The mirror had no stories to tell him, though, so he came out just as Zoro was heading in. They merely exchanged glancing touches of hands to arms as they passed each other, and then the door closed. Sanji hunted around to find the bathrobe he had been using, and tied the sash just as there was another knock at the door.

The attendant outside seemed nervous, possibly fearing the angry man would answer the door again, but it was just Sanji, fresh from washing and already smoking his morning/post-coitus cigarette. The youngster perked up. “Good morning, sir! I’m sorry for the interruption, but you’ve ordered tea service the past couple of days, so I figured you might want it again.”

“Oh.” Sanji blinked at him, and then shrugged and opened the door wider. “Fine, you may as well. My client probably won’t want any, but I’ll take it.”

“Yes, sir.” The hotel waiter entered with the tea service and hurriedly left it on the table, though he paused to proudly hold something out to his guest. “I managed to get my hands on a paper, after all, like you wanted,” he said excitedly. “It’s a couple days old but I’m sure you’ll understand once you’ve read up on events. It was hard to find, you might have better luck getting a fresh issue in a day or two.”

“Oh...thanks.” Sanji took the newspaper from him and offered him a tip for that, though a far stingier one than might have been expected. The waiter seemed not to notice the size of the bill, he simply bowed and left the room. As soon as he could, Sanji locked the door and then drifted back toward the table, unfolding the paper to see what the fuss was about. The instant his eye caught the headline, the cigarette in his lips fell to the floor. He was several paragraphs in before he realized what he had done in his shock and bent to scoop up the burning butt, squashing it out on one of the tea saucers and setting it aside for later.

Zoro came out of the bathroom a short time later, scrubbing a towel against the back of his neck and the hair at the nape to dry it. “If we’re not going to switch hotels, I’m going to make use of that bath one more time,” he said absently as he came, unaware of any goings-on in the room until he looked up and realized Sanji was sitting on the bed with his back turned, his head bowed and the robe slipping off his shoulders. It was a curious yet enticing pose, Zoro could not resist prowling up behind him, climbing across the bed, and firmly kissing the expanse of pale skin laid bare by the falling robe. Sanji didn’t seem to notice him or react even as the kisses reached the joint of neck and shoulder, at which point Zoro raised his head to see why he was being ignored. He saw the newspaper, then, held somewhat limply in Sanji’s hands. “What, where’d you get that? Is that today’s paper?”

“No,” Sanji replied in a low, flat tone. “It’s from a few days ago.”

“Oh? Anything interesting...?” Zoro finally noticed his posture, and settled down to a seat with his legs on either side of the cook’s slender body. “What is it?”

Sanji closed the paper and flipped the top half up so Zoro could see the headline at the top of the front page. From the catch of breath in his ear, he knew the weight of it had been grasped. “It’s big,” he murmured. “I’m halfway done and...” Without turning his head, he breathed a soft sigh and then stated what he had just read buried deep in the paragraphs of text. “...Ace is dead.”

Zoro went still and rigid behind him. “What?”

The hands holding the paper clenched briefly. The news had been somewhere a few pages back, as whoever had written the story had tried to dole out as much fact as possible before the Marines could censor it. “The execution was stopped, but he was still killed in the battle. Apparently by one of the admirals.”

Zoro’s voice was cold and quiet. “Kizaru?”

“No. One of the others. Akainu.”

“What about Luffy?”

“Mm...” Sanji swallowed before responding. “He was there. Seen on the battlefield, apparently part of stopping the execution. No mention of him after that.” He shuffled the newspaper back open to the page he had been reading, and skimmed the rest of the article for that telltale name. Zoro tried to read snatches of paragraphs over his shoulder at the same time. “Here, at the end,” Sanji finally noted. “'The whereabouts of several dangerous, notorious pirates with high bounties are unknown at this time, including the revolutionary Ivanov, Trafalgar Law, Monkey D. Luffy, the warlord Gecko Moria, and former warlord...'” The name made him groan under his breath. “...Sir Crocodile.”

“Crocodile?!” Zoro jerked back in surprise and anger. “What the hell was _he_ doing there?”

Without flipping back a page to other details, Sanji reported, “Apparently just before this whole thing went down, there was a massive break-out at Impel Down. The ship of escaped prisoners showed up at Marineford, that’s probably where he came in.” He lowered the paper into his lap. “I think Luffy was responsible for that, too. They didn’t say it, but somehow, I just know it.”

“Tell me what it says, I don’t feel like reading the whole thing,” Zoro demanded bluntly, curling his arms tightly around Sanji’s waist. “Give me the important highlights.”

Sighing, Sanji folded the paper closed again and glanced at the front page while he recalled the most important pieces of information among everything he had read. “Ace was a high-level commander in Whitebeard’s crew, right? Obviously Whitebeard wasn’t going to just stand by and let him get executed. He brought his whole fleet to Marineford to stop it, and launched an all-out war on the Marines. But they anticipated it, and had forces ready, including all seven pirate warlords, admirals, vice-admirals…you name it. There was a huge battle, the island is pretty much destroyed.” His head shifted slightly to regard Zoro, who was sitting curled against him with his chin hovering just above Sanji’s right shoulder. “Whitebeard himself is also dead.”

“Shit...” Zoro muttered softly, lowering his head so his lips touched that shoulder. “Who did it? Does it say?”

“Just that a number of wounds were received and he died on his feet.” Sanji shook his head slightly. “There’s a lot of details missing, it’s like the World Government selectively cut out bits they didn’t want published. But everything that lauds the Marines’ efforts at stopping a pirate war is there in full detail.”

“Figures,” Zoro grunted. “Damn government.”

“I was just getting to the bit about how it ended,” Sanji went on. “Seems Red-haired Shanks entered the battlefield after Whitebeard’s death and just called a truce or something.”

“Shanks?” Zoro lifted his head again and looked down at the newspaper in Sanji’s lap. “Isn’t that the guy who gave Luffy his hat?”

“Yeah. That one. One of the Four Emperors.” Sanji glanced at him again. “The way it sounds, this is the closest the government has come to a full-on war to end the Age of Piracy. Several of the shichibukai are missing or abdicated their positions, one of the Four Emperors is dead, Luffy was there and then disappeared...”

“Disappeared,” Zoro repeated stonily. “If he were dead, the newspaper would say so.”

“Considering they mentioned him in the same breath with Moria and Crocodile...yeah.”

Zoro grumbled some more. “Damn Moria, how did he survive? That bastard Kuma must have saved him after....” He stopped there, though, because he didn’t need to bring it up. The two of them knew exactly to what he was referring. “And Crocodile’s free from Impel Down. Great.”

“This issue doesn’t have any more on the prison break,” Sanji complained. “I don’t think they want too much getting out about that – the Marines always bragged about how no one has ever escaped from Impel Down. But a whole ship full of convicts…”

“We’ll have to see what wanted posters are re-issued,” Zoro mused, resting his chin on Sanji’s shoulder. “Then we’ll know.”

“Mhm.” Sanji opened the paper once more, skimmed the article he had nearly finished, and then glanced at other smaller headlines before closing it and setting it aside. There was nothing else to be gleaned, nothing important to them anyway. He sat limp with his hands in his lap and his head lowered. “Ace, though...”

Zoro made a quiet sound of agreement. He tilted his head until it rested against Sanji’s, and gently pressed his lips to the cook’s neck. “We should toast his memory,” he murmured. “Later.”

The tenderness of that action sent tingles running through Sanji’s whole body. He closed his eyes and sagged against Zoro, mentally drained from reading all of that stunning news all at once. “I’ll pick up a bottle of something,” he mumbled. “On my way back.”

“Oh, right. You still need to find us passage out of here.” As much as Zoro just wanted to take his crewmate back to bed and play with his sensual body some more, there were things that needed to be done today. “You gonna go do that, then?”

Sanji sat there in silence for a moment, and then breathed, “In a bit.” He wasn’t ready to get up yet, not with his companion holding him that way. It was strange to have the swordsman behaving so favorably toward him, but for now, Sanji chose not to question it and just take what was offered to him. A comforting presence after bad news was welcome. Both were obviously worried about Luffy, but they didn’t talk about it. Instead, they sat together without sharing a word, leaning on each other, their heads resting against each other’s. Zoro’s arms lay gently wrapped around Sanji’s waist, and Sanji could feel Zoro’s earrings brushing against his neck. It was as though they had chosen, in the absence of anyone who knew them and in the privacy of their room, to finally express physically the depth of their actual care for one another. Sanji never had a problem hugging or patting the younger guys in their crew, but Zoro? No, it wasn’t appropriate for some reason, they never shared so much as a back-pat. Being away from the others had changed that, even if it was only temporary.

After an appropriate length of time, Sanji pried himself out of his companion’s embrace and slid off the bed, gathering the loose folds of the robe around him before padding off across the room to get dressed. Zoro drew the paper to him and glanced over the front page news until the cook came back fully dressed, wrestling into a spare jacket instead of his nice suitcoat. “Are you going to just lounge in bed all day?” he asked, only just noticing that Zoro was still completely naked.

“No,” Zoro grunted. “I’m going to do some training while you’re out.”

Sanji accepted that with a toss of his head. “There’s tea, but it’s probably cold by now.”

“Don’t care about tea.” Zoro flung the paper aside and got up from the bed, crossing to Sanji without any heed for his state of undress. He peered at his comrade, and then knocked his knuckles against his shoulder. “Don’t forget the booze.”

“Yeah, yeah.” For a moment, Sanji thought he was going to be kissed again, and when he wasn’t, actually felt disappointed. He shrugged it off, though, and left the room to take care of the day’s errands.

The first stop was the front desk to finish his con job on the attendant and accept the offer of a free night’s stay, complete with grousing about the weather and ship traffic. The attendant from last night hadn’t made note of this offer, though, so there was another legitimate row between the guest and the front desk clerk. Instead of a free night’s stay, however, the deal was made for them to have their meals for the day comped. Sanji was nothing if not convincing, and made the clerk feel like he was lucky to get off so easy, though privately he disliked having to pay full price for another night at the luxury hotel. At least they had the funds for it. From there it was straight to the harbor, even though it was still raining heavily and he had no umbrella. The festival was over and the streets had gone more or less back to normal, if not a little deserted thanks to the foul weather. It was dark, and lamps were still lit along the street to make up for it. Sanji headed to the offices he had marked out the day before, glad to see that most of them were finally open for business. No one was setting sail in the storm, but cargo was being loaded and the ships docked were being outfitted for their journeys. The offices were nothing more than tiny sheds with open doorways and just enough room inside for a desk, a few shelves, and a lamp, the kind of places harbor workers could rush in and out of to conduct their business with each shipping line. The cook asked around to find which lines were most likely to be bound for Sabaody or something like it, and then followed up as best he could. Most were not sailing east right away, one said they would be hitting an island near Sabaody on their return trip two weeks from now. It wasn’t looking good. Sanji ducked into one of the little offices to get out of the rain just as a little pot-bellied man sidled up behind the desk, and for a moment they blinked at each other. The man hooked his lantern on a peg near at hand and beamed from behind his moustache at his visitor. “Something I can help you with, young man?”

Sanji pushed some of his wet hair away from his right eye and stepped up to the desk. “It couldn’t hurt to ask, I suppose. I’m looking for passage to Sabaody, or anywhere close by it. As soon as possible, time is somewhat of the essence.”

The little man gave him a curious look. “Sabaody, huh? How about Nirva, is that close enough?”

“Nirva?” Sanji shook his head. “I’m not familiar with the islands around here.”

“Here.” The man shuffled books and papers around on his desk until he could find a map, which he pulled out and laid on top of everything. It was a rather nice map of part of the Grand Line, the section in which they now found themselves. “Here’s Esme, Nirva is here. From there it’s just another short, oh, I don’t know, couple days to Sabaody, here.” He moved his stubby finger over the map to point out each island. “Obel Maritime Trading goes to Nirva as part of its usual route, that’s where the ship’s actually headed next.”

“Really?” Sanji lit up considerably, unable to believe his luck. It wasn’t direct-to-Sabaody but it was the closest he had come so far. “What kind of a ship is it, and can I book passage for two?”

“Well, we don’t really get a lot of passengers,” the desk clerk admitted, rubbing his chin. “The _Flying Serpent_ is a merchant vessel, we’ve got trade in all these islands ‘round here.”

“Would you take some on anyway?” Sanji tried not to sound desperate, but he was excited. He leaned his hands on the desk and eagerly thrust his face toward the man. “We have money! My crewmate and I have to get back to Sabaody as quickly as possible, we promised our captain.”

“Ehhh...” After a little more chin-rubbing, the clerk came around the end of his desk. “I’ll have to run it past the captain. Wait here for a bit, would you?”

He grabbed a coat from where it draped over a barrel near the door and vanished out into the rain. Sanji edged to one side, leaning against the wall to wait. He was so close he could taste it, and repeated glances at the map on the desk showed him just how close they were. He tried to memorize as much of it as possible, in the off chance it would help, but mostly he just gazed at the little blobs of island in hope. Nirva was somewhat out of the way, far north of Sabaody, but every other merchant ship was going either south or west, completely in the wrong direction. One was even going to one of the islands accessible by sea train from Water Seven. It impressed on Sanji for the first time just how far from Sabaody both he and Zoro had been flung by Kuma’s power. He didn’t know from just glancing at the map which islands were the ones they had been on, but was clear there was no direct way back. They had to island-hop as much as they could with the merchants who used eternal posts to sail to specific places rather than follow the magnetic path of a lock post. For not the first time, Sanji mentally cursed the pirate warlord for fucking with the crew so horribly.

After a short time, the pudgy little man was back, this time with a strapping man in tow who could clearly only have been the captain of the ship. Tall and thick across the chest with unruly hair and fuzzy eyebrows, the captain ducked into the tiny office and sized up the blond man waiting for an answer. “You the one looking for passage to Nirva?” he asked in a rich voice edged with humor.

Sanji straightened up and faced him squarely, tucking his hands into his trouser pockets. “That’s right. You the captain?”

“Radolf Egan.” The big man thrust out a hand for Sanji to shake. “Yep, I’m captain of the _Flying Serpent_ and chief officer in the Obel Maritime Trading Company. You must be pretty desperate if you’re asking a merchant ship for passage.”

Sanji shook his hand, not daunted by the captain’s ridiculously strong grip, and held his gaze. “It’s like I told your clerk, time is of the essence. We’re not out for a pleasure cruise, we’ve got somewhere to be and got some news today that puts us on a shorter schedule than I thought.”

Captain Egan rubbed his goatee in thought. He looked a little more wild and hairy than a merchant captain ought to, but he wore the fine clothes of his station well. “How many we talking?”

“Just two. Myself and the first mate.”

“Nirva’s stuck in the middle of pirate-infested waters,” Radolf mused. “I’d be hard-pressed to see to the safety of a couple of passengers around there.”

Sanji sniffed and smiled knowingly. “And what if I said we were already pirates?”

“Pirates. Booking passage.” Radolf laughed heartily. “Isn’t that a little backwards?”

“Then make an offer, or a deal,” Sanji suggested. “What would it take to let a couple of shipwrecked pirates onto your vessel as far as Nirva Island?”

“I don’t know, that depends on how much the Marines would smack me for if they found out I was giving safe passage to pirates,” Radolf grinned. “How much you got?”

Sanji shrugged, raising his hands in an open gesture. “It’s possible our skills are worth more than the beli in our pockets. We’re both strong, good fighters...”

“Eh, I need fighters like I need a hole in the head,” Egan scoffed with a swat of his hand. “Now, give me a good cook and then we might talk.”

The grin that filled Sanji’s face was the epitome of smug. “Oh. A cook, you say? Is a first-class chef good enough for you?”

“First-class?” Radolf raised one bristly eyebrow in disbelief. “Come off it, that’s just fancy-talk. All I need is somebody to replace my galley cook for a while. He hurt his arm and can’t get around the kitchen like he used to.”

“Believe it or not, you happen to be talking to a five-star chef who was trained by Red Leg Zeff himself,” Sanji bragged. “Short-term galley cooking is nothing. I’ll have your crew begging for more after just one snack.”

Whether or not the captain had ever heard of Red Leg Zeff, he didn’t show it. He peered at Sanji, making his appraisal. “Sounds mighty suspicious to me,” he said after a bit. “Having a cook show up just when I need one?”

“No more suspicious than stumbling onto a ship heading in the direction we need to go just when we need it the most,” Sanji reasoned.

“You got me there.” Captain Egan glanced toward his desk clerk. “What do you think?”

The mustached man rubbed the back of his neck. “Pirates who are up to something wouldn’t come right out and say they were pirates.”

“Ha! Very true, Setsu, very true.” Radolf eyed Sanji one more time, and then took a deep breath before pronouncing his judgment. “Five thousand beli each of you, and your cooperation in my galley until we get to Nirva. If you cause any trouble to my crew beyond taking up space, I take it out of your pocket or your hide, whichever I get a hand on first. Deal?”

Sanji didn’t like the amount of money, but at this rate, he didn’t want to jeopardize his chances. They had enough out of Zoro’s winnings to pay it, at least. “Deal,” he agreed. “When do you set sail?”

“Tomorrow morning, by eight if the seas are calm, later if not.” Radolf thumbed over his shoulder at the dark and rainy outdoors. “This weather’s putting a cramp in my schedule, but we’re going to be off tomorrow no matter what. This squall should pass overnight, at least.” He turned to his clerk. “Jot down in the cargo manifest, an extra...” He sized up Sanji and did some quick math in his head. “...hundred and fifty kilos. Mark it ‘kitchen supplies.’ That should do.” He gave Sanji a wary look. “Don’t bother giving me your names if you’re pirates. I don’t want that kind of thing on my record books. And mark my words.” He pointed a stern finger almost in Sanji’s face. “You give me the slightest bit of trouble and I turn you over to the first Marines I spot. _Personally_. Got it?”

Sanji held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Fine, fine. I don’t know what you’re so damn worried about, captain. We’re just a couple of guys trying to get back to our crew. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Uh huh. So you say. I’ll judge that for myself.” Radolf straightened up and nodded sharply. “Be here bright and early or we’ll leave you behind, it’s no skin off my teeth. I can make up ten thousand beli any other way in a heartbeat.” With that, he ducked through the doorway and went back to the ship.

The desk clerk hastily scribbled the new “cargo” in the manifest and held out a hand for the payment. “Don’t listen to his bluster, we can really use the money. Pirates have made travel along the Obel Maritime routes hell lately. What happened at Marineford is only going to make it worse.”

Sanji raised his eyebrow as he fished out his funds. “Oh, heard about that, huh?” he said as casually as he could. “Sounds like a real mess.”

“Yeah, sounds like it,” the clerk agreed. “It’s been in the papers every day, how everybody needs to be careful and keep on their guard for all these notorious pirates who got away. But they’re not saying anything about how they got out of Impel Down, so all we can do is expect the worst.”

“I see.” Sanji fished out some large bills and laid them on the manifest. “Here’s half now, you’ll get the rest in the morning when we board – I didn’t bring all that with me.”

“That’s fair enough.” The clerk in turn handed him a slip of paper with the official seal of the Obel Maritime Trading Company and the emblem of the ship stamped on it, as proof of payment and a hint how to find the _Flying Serpent_ in the middle of all those ships docked in the harbor. With that, the deal was complete and Sanji was free to return to the hotel to get warm and dry and celebrate their getting off of Esme.

As promised, Sanji stopped by a store on his way back to pick up a rather nice bottle of quality rum, the smooth kind that was ideal for drinking straight and toasting seafaring ventures. He had taken care of all their other errands the day before, so he headed straight back to the hotel soaking wet and moderately triumphant. The rain soured his good mood, which was why he ignored the friendly greetings of the front desk attendant and just went straight up to the room. He was expecting Zoro to still be either loafing in bed or doing whatever training exercises he said he would, but when he unlocked the door and let himself in, he discovered his crewmate sitting at the table (which had been cleared, the cold tea service taken away) reading the newspaper in full. He was still shirtless but had at least thrown pants on, leading Sanji to surmise that he had at least done _some_ thing with himself in the meantime. He drew the bottle of rum from inside his jacket and set it on the table with a dull thunk as if to seek approval for his choice.

Zoro had, in fact, done several sets of push-ups of all varieties, the only thing he could do inside a hotel room on a rainy day with no weights or other equipment at hand. Once that was done, he had decided to read the paper for himself just to say he did, so that he would know as much as Sanji knew about Marineford. He looked up at the sound of the key in the door, and kept his dark eyes trained on his comrade as he entered and unloaded the bottle of liquor. Sanji’s blond hair was plastered to his face and neck and dripped rainwater all down his jacket and the collar of his shirt. As he peeled off the coat, Zoro noticed that the front of his shirt was soaking wet as well, clinging to his chest. He looked mildly grouchy and a little bit solemn, and that with the wet hair and clothing made him irresistible. Even as he was tossing the jacket onto the back of a chair to dry, Zoro folded the newspaper, put it aside, and got up. Without a word he grabbed Sanji by the buckle of his belt and started towing him toward the bed. He got halfway there before a hand clenched on his wrist and Sanji dug in his heels, not wanting to be dragged. Zoro turned to him, and still saying nothing, stepped in close and kissed him – softly, surprisingly enough, with a light stroke of his thumb across the cook’s cheek. Sanji accepted it, even if he didn’t quite understand the suddenness of it. He didn’t know that Zoro was looking at him and considering him utterly sexy, dripping wet like that, but the kiss was nice. And warm. He slipped out of his shoes even as Zoro began to unbutton the wet shirt. “You have any luck?” he asked in a low, husky tone.

“Yeah.” Sanji felt that shiver run up his back again at the hands fumbling across his chest, prying open his shirt and helping him out of it. “We leave tomorrow morning.”

“Good.” Zoro stepped even closer, running his fingertips over a nipple as he leaned in for another kiss, tasting the raindrops off his comrade’s cheek. “Tell me about it later.”

As much as Sanji wanted to ask why, where this was all coming from, why did they have to get down and dirty again right away, he found that he didn’t much care. Zoro stripped him of his wet clothing and tossed it on the second bed, and then grasped him by the wrist to pull him towards their shared bed. Sanji fell into his arms without protest, finding himself rolled over and wrapped in the warm bedding, and then kissed all over and made warm in no time flat. It took a lot longer to get aroused this time, but Zoro worked patiently, lying with him and stroking with his big, rough hand all while he kissed and softly nipped at Sanji’s neck, chin, earlobe, and lips in turn. In the end, they decided without having to consult one another just to stroke each other off, a slow and easy way to enjoy one another and stay warm and comfortable doing it. They kissed lazily while their hands worked below, crossing to each other’s bodies and fondling as much as they wanted, teasing the shafts, palming the sacs, rubbing the heads with their thumbs. They wasted quite a lot of their afternoon with this activity, and it was completely worth it. Sanji was perfectly content having Zoro lying beside and somewhat over him, taking the lead again, and had one arm draped around his shoulder and back while the other worked its magic. Zoro purred deep in his chest as he cupped his comrade’s balls and stroked him well and good, bending to kiss his chest and then coming back up to his lips over and over again. He came first, grunting and letting out a huge groan as he spilled into Sanji’s hand, and then pushed closer to ply his lips along Sanji’s long, graceful neck while he continued to stroke. Sanji followed shortly after, not making a lot of noise this time but for loud gasps and one light, drawn-out moan at the point of climax. His hand shifted to Zoro’s hip to pull himself closer, embracing him in gratitude, and the swordsman likewise tightened his arms, burying his face in his partner’s neck and collarbone as he sought to catch his breath. They laid there for a long time afterward, not quite sleepy enough to nap, but just enough to want to stay there unmoving, relaxing, caressing warm, dry skin or damp blond locks and gingerly kissing any spots neglected previously. Neither thought too hard about how this felt, or what it made them, because it didn’t matter. That required talking, and feeling, and deciding, and they didn’t want to do any of that.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leaving Esme and having a pretty major adventure at sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some names have been borrowed from Suikoden but this is not a crossover, I'm just lazy. The character of Steele is borrowed from Suikoden Tactics.

Only when he was sure he wasn’t going to drop off to sleep did Sanji drag himself out of warm arms and warm blankets to fetch his tobacco purse and have a cigarette to cap off a rather lovely session. Zoro stayed in bed, and when his companion sat down and tucked his feet back into the sheets, the swordsman rolled over and pillowed his spiky head on the nearest hip he could reach. Sanji smoked and then reclined back when he finished, content to lie there and filter his fingers through green hair for a while. At least until both could agree that they were hungry and needed to get up. They threw on whatever clothes they could scrounge out of the pile on the second bed, and Sanji went downstairs to just order something from room service, doing it in person so he could pester them about the types of dishes and size of the portions in order to have the best sent to them in their room. He made sure to ask for a couple of tankards for the liquor in addition to whatever they would drink with dinner, so they could make their toasts. They had enough time to clean up and make themselves completely presentable by the time the meal was delivered, and Sanji gleefully tipped the waiter for making a comment about how the tournament winner seemed lazy outside of the ring – since he had hardly left the room for days. No one ever suspected what the pair were really up to in there.

When the door was once again locked to keep them closed away, Sanji turned to find that Zoro had already opened the bottle of rum and was pouring some into both empty tankards. He handed one to the cook, and both raised them in the air with their heads up and eyes on each other. “To Ace,” Zoro murmured.

“Portgas D. Ace,” Sanji added, and then both took a deep drink. The rum was smooth and hot, the perfect compliment to the man they honored. Were they at sea, they would have poured a third and offered it to the ocean for him, but here, this was just fine. This would do. Taking a breath, Sanji lowered his gaze. “We only knew him briefly, but he seemed like a hell of a guy.”

Zoro hummed in agreement, staring into his mug. “He was Luffy’s brother, he had to be.” He licked his lips, tasting the rum again, and then gave a dry laugh. “Remember what he did to those Baroque Works ships? One shot and you could see why they called him Fire Fist.”

“Yeah. It’s a damn shame, you know?” Sanji took another sip. “Luffy kept saying they’d spend time together later, when they could see each other again, and were real enemies. Now, it’ll never be.”

“At least he got to see him.” Zoro’s face was grim. “And didn’t have to watch his brother get executed on a platform.”

“Oi.” Sanji’s remark was to get his comrade’s attention. When he had it, he raised his mug again. “We’ll make sure it never happens again. Not to anyone else he calls a friend.”

“Never again,” Zoro vowed as solemnly as he had vowed to never be defeated, tapping his tankard to the other. Both drained them, this time, and simultaneously slammed the empty mugs down onto the table.

Their dinner awaited them, so they set aside the rum and set to it, putting aside the darker feelings of grief and worry for now. The food was good, and there was plenty of it, with a bottle of sweeter wine in addition to the rum. Sanji told the full story of how the negotiations played out with the captain of the _Flying Serpent_ , and grudgingly withstood the ribbing over being essentially made to act as a replacement for the usual cook. It didn’t bother him, he was actually missing cooking already after just a couple days. Afterward, Sanji went to draw a bath, and was almost finished washing by the time Zoro finished another tankard of rum and joined him. There would be no fooling around this time, but they’d already had each other twice that day as it was. A bath could be just a bath, after all, with nothing more than some suggestive looks passing between them. Once fully relaxed and languid in addition to being clean, Zoro picked around looking for any supplies they could steal and stash in their baggage while Sanji finally repacked the duffel bag with everything but the clothes they were to wear in the morning. Thanks to the all-day rain and heavy cloud the room was chillier, but the big meal and warm bath went a long way toward counteracting that. Fresh, warm sleep clothes helped, too. Sanji stashed the packed bag in the wardrobe with tomorrow’s clothes, along with a brand-new backpack he had picked up the day before to carry any survival supplies they had – food, money, matches, bandages, and so on. Each could carry a bag, now, and lessen the chances of losing or forgetting something important. A warm bed awaited them, and Zoro sprawled out first, burying his face in the bedding and smirking to himself at the lingering scent of their wanton activities. They had really used and abused this hotel room, to say nothing of the good graces of the staff. Sanji only came to bed when he was fully satisfied with his preparations, and collapsed beside Zoro even though the second bed was cleared off and available now. An arm draped over his middle, drawing him close like a security blanket, and he no longer resisted it.

Not only did the storm pass in the middle of the night, but the cloud cover went with it. A watery but bright blue sky and pale sun broke through the clouds just after dawn, cheering the cityscape of Esme at last. Eager not to be left behind, the two pirates passed even on the morning tea service and simply left, pausing only for Sanji to settle their surprisingly small bill at the front desk. With him in a suit again and Zoro comfortably carrying his swords in open view, they certainly still looked the part of a contract fighter and his agent, and for weeks afterward people around town whispered about the rumor that the real Roronoa Zoro had won this year’s tournament. It seemed very hard to believe, and former champion Wilton Fend would only laugh and say cryptic things if asked about it. The harbor that morning was filled with rigging and sails stretching to the blue sky, a multitude of flags stirring limply in the light breeze that washed away the passing storm and began to dry the decks, docks, and cobblestone streets. Sanji and Zoro found their way without any problems, striding purposefully and intent on keeping their appointment. Because the ship was soon to disembark, the Obel Maritime clerk was at the gangway with his checklists, going over everything a third and fourth time while the crew finished loading any last-minute cargo and prepping the ship to sail. He did not seem surprised that the two pirates were there on time, and collected the outstanding half of their fee before pointing with his pen to the embarking ramp. “Captain’s already aboard, so go ahead,” he said. “He’ll want to show you to the galley, I think.”

“Right.” Sanji nodded his thanks and led the way up with Zoro trailing a step behind him. The _Flying Serpent_ wasn’t just a merchant vessel, she was an enormous three-masted galleon, easily two or three times as big as the _Sunny_ and sleeker to boot. That kind of ship needed a crew of a hundred to man, but could also carry tons of cargo and sail the longer routes between islands. At the sight of her deck unfolding before them at the top of the ramp, Sanji was even more eager to see the kitchen. “A few days on this ship will be like nothing,” he remarked quietly to his comrade.

“She’s about the size of Brook’s old ghost ship,” Zoro noted in return. “Haven’t been on a ship this size in a while.”

“No wonder the captain thinks taking over for his cook will be a burden and a chore.” Sanji flashed the swordsman a smug grin. “I’ll show him.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Zoro didn’t care much; he was moderately hungry because they skipped breakfast, after all, but he could wait.

Captain Egan met them coming across the main deck, his finer coat replaced by much simpler clothing that was easier to move in on the deck of a ship. “Ah, there you are. Come, I’ll introduce you to Mac – he’s our cook. The one you’re standing in for.”

He turned immediately and headed for the stairs to the forecastle, where the galley and mess were located on this particular vessel. Whatever his impression of the two men, he didn’t show it as they went and found the kitchen staff already in the galley baking bread to be shared around the crew as a quick breakfast before disembarking. There were a couple of younger teens doing most of the actual physical work, while a stout, older fellow with his right arm in a sling ordered them around. The captain presented his passengers to Mac, pointing out that the one was supposed to be some kind of fancy classy chef. Mac eyeballed Sanji directly and scoffed out loud. “Anybody can call themselves a cook, what matters is what you can do,” he groused. “You up for it, sonny?”

Sanji eyed him right back, making a face. Despite his age and build, this man was nothing like Zeff and he resented his brain for trying to make the comparison. “Oi, don’t look at me like I’m some kind of punk,” he said warily. “I can do the work. Just keep your rugrats out of my way.”

A ruddy-faced kid, maybe thirteen at the most, passed by with a tray of hot biscuits. “Oh yeah?” he shot back. “What does some fancy-pants guy in a suit know about cooking?”

“Shut up, Rodi,” a second boy implored in a half-whisper. “You don’t talk back to passengers like that.”

Zoro raised an eyebrow. “Charming. You should fit right in, cook.”

“Shut it, seaweed-head.” Sanji shrugged the backpack off his shoulder and handed it to his companion. “Take care of this, I’ve got work to do.”

Mac eyed him some more and then turned away with a quick gesture. “Come on, then. Crew’s gonna need a bite to eat before we sail. That’s Rodi and Bungee, they’re my kitchen assistants. Tell ‘em what to do or kick ‘em out of the way, one of the two.”

Sanji was already unbuttoning his suitcoat and preparing to roll up his sleeves. Zoro hefted the backpack by a strap and turned to Captain Egan. “Where do you want me to stow our gear and shit?”

“Down this way.” The captain took him back across the main deck to the aft cabins, but went below instead of up to the bridge and officers’ quarters. The crew cabins were nearly empty at this point, but anyone could see how many men crowded in there when there wasn’t work to do. Egan gestured to a pair of bunks right by the door. “These should be empty. You can crash here with the regular guys.” He turned, then, and stared Zoro down sternly. “I’ll tell you what I told your crewmate yesterday. You give me any trouble, I give you over to the Marines.”

Zoro gazed back at him aloofly, resting his elbow calmly on the three hilts at his side. “And what do you really expect two men to do against this entire crew?” he wondered.

“Any two men? Not much. _You_ two, however...” Radolf’s eyes narrowed, though there might have been a glint of keen interest in them. “What, you think I wasn’t hanging around the other day to watch the tournament? I heard what they said. I’ve got your posters up in my office. Pirate Hunter Zoro and Black Leg Sanji could probably raze this ship to a man and I wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it. But I’d sure as hell try.”

Zoro grinned lazily. “I like your enthusiasm.” He then shook his head slowly. “We don’t want your ship. We’ve got one waiting for us. Getting there depends on you all being alive and well.”

“I’m glad we have an understanding.” Radolf Egan gave his passenger a casual salute as he stomped past and out the door. “I can’t say the same for the rest of my crew. If any of them are stupid enough to assume the worst on hearing your name, then they probably deserve the beating they’ll get.”

Zoro huffed a chuckle under his breath, but didn’t rise to the taunt. He tossed the duffel on the lower bunk and threw Sanji’s backpack onto the other, and then went back up to the deck to watch the ship disembark and head for the open sea.

A rising wind caught the sails just as the massive ship turned onto its heading, and they were off. About that time, one of the kitchen assistants rang a bell hanging outside the mess to let the sailors know they could come grab something to eat. From where he stood at the railing of the rear deck just above the main, Zoro watched flocks of men heading in for a bite, though a few stayed back to man the helm and rigging, and then one of the boys from the galley came across with the captain’s breakfast on a covered tray in order to bring it to him up on the bridge. The swordsman contemplated going to the mess as well to try to sneak something from his crewmate, but just when he started for the stairs, Sanji came out with another tray and crossed the main deck looking for him. He looked proud as a peacock, his sleeves rolled up and his tie a little loose, but smoking and smug as usual. Zoro waited at the top of the stairs for him, folding his arms. “What are you so excited about?” he wondered as his crewmate came within earshot.

“Nothing. Just breakfast,” Sanji replied suavely, breezing past him and going to sit along the railing, setting the tray next to him. “Come here if you want to eat.”

Zoro decided to obey, figuring it was better than the alternative. He sat down on the other side of the tray as Sanji uncovered it to reveal plates of flapjacks, sausages, and biscuits. “I thought they were just making bread to tide everyone over,” Zoro noted.

They were until I got into the kitchen,” Sanji sniffed. “All that space and a huge stove, and they were just baking biscuits? It was a shame. Now everyone will get a good, hearty meal to start the voyage and keep them going.” He handed Zoro a plate, and then sat back with the second to eat. “From now on you can eat with the rest of the crew, though. I’ll be busy.”

“Lucky you.” Zoro set to, stuffing his face and filling the silence with eating for a while. He really didn’t mean to complain, they had only just set out after all, but he had this sinking feeling that he would be left completely idle while Sanji had the work to do on this voyage. Then again, he could probably train, even if he didn’t have the weights and gym. He hadn’t been in a good fight since being slapped off of Sabaody – the tournament notwithstanding – and it was starting to chafe at him. Beating up the small fries in the ring hadn’t been hardly enough challenge to call a real fight. He was finally back out at sea where the worst could happen, and he was wondering if his failure at the archipelago was a sign that he needed to work even harder. Now that his wounds were healed enough, it was time to focus on that.

Sanji ate quickly, as he tended to do when busy working the kitchen, and sat back to enjoy his tea while Zoro finished up with the much larger portion he had been served. “What are you going to do while I’m working?” he asked idly, having no idea that Zoro was already thinking about it.

Zoro leaned his back against the railing and inspected his last biscuit before taking a bite. “Train, I guess,” he replied after a bit. “As long as they don’t mind me climbing their rigging.”

“Run it past Captain Egan first,” Sanji warned. “He’s keen enough, he knows what’s what around here.”

Zoro made a small noise of agreement and finished off his biscuit. He then took the other cup of tea and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his expression darkening. “Oi. What happens if we get to Sabaody and the others aren’t there?”

“We wait,” Sanji said matter-of-factly, cradling the warm cup in his hands. “We find Rayleigh, have him take us to _Sunny_ , and we wait.”

Zoro did not seem satisfied with that answer. “I’d rather be looking for the others. Looking for Luffy.”

“It won’t do any good.” Sanji glanced at him. “I’m worried about him, too, but if we keep wandering aimlessly across the sea, we’re bound to miss him. Meeting up at Sabaody is the only guarantee we have right now. We promised.”

Zoro breathed a sigh and then gulped down the rest of his tea in one shot. “I know,” he said heavily, pushing himself to his feet, “but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

He bent to set the cup back on the tray with the rest of the dishes, and managed to stealthily brush his hand across the top of Sanji’s head as he straightened back up and went past to look for the captain and get his permission to turn the mast rigging of the ship into his personal gym. A few moments later Sanji got up as well and collected the tray, heading back to the kitchen to help clean up and get the galley ready for the next round of cooking.

The wind was fair but light, pushing the _Flying Serpent_ along at a slower pace than the captain would have liked. But there wasn’t much to do about it except watch and maintain course, while his crew bustled about doing their jobs. Radolf Egan looked up at where one of his passengers was hanging upside down with his legs hooked over one of the mast’s crossbars, doing a set of sit-ups from that position, and shook his head. Pirates certainly did what they willed. But neither of them caused any trouble at all, and the day passed uneventfully for the merchant vessel. Any suspicious grumbling among his crew was hidden down below or behind closed doors, but when dinner was served that evening, all murmuring ceased. At Sanji’s direction and with him doing most of the actual cooking, the meal came out fantastic. Because of his broken arm, Mac could do little besides offer advice and boss the young kitchen assistants around, so having another pair of hands to do the work freed him to look around for what small things he could still physically do, at the risk of being demoted to second-favorite cook. But preparing a meal for that many people took a lot out of Sanji, and he was glad to be dismissed after dinner was on the table – the kids would wash the dishes, they said, along with anyone in the crew who had tripped up and needed to be disciplined through chores. Sanji grabbed a quick bite in the kitchen and then went out onto the main deck to have a smoke and relax. When they had finished, the officers came past him and clapped him on the back with plenty of compliments for the meal, which he just waved off. Captain Egan stepped out, then, having taken his dinner with the crew instead of in his cabin because of the rumors that it was just that good. “Well, all right,” he said upon spotting the wiry blond man at the railing, “I’m a man who knows when to eat his words. You weren’t kidding at all, were you, chef?”

Sanji glanced sidelong at him, taking a deep drag off his cigarette. “You’re just now realizing that, huh?”

Egan laughed loudly. “Okay, maybe breakfast should have been a hint, but you never know. Mac could’ve just gotten it into his head to work you to the bone. It’s not too bad, is it?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Sanji said aloofly. He folded his arms and turned to lean his back against the railing. “So. Are you up on all the shit that went down at Marineford?”

The captain’s good humor faded. “As much as a merchant captain ought to be,” he answered.

“Then, do you know more about the break-out at Impel Down? Or hasn’t there been any more news on that?”

“Not much,” Radolf sighed. “It’s been tough getting any word from Marine headquarters the last few days, naturally. I’ve been waiting on fresh wanted posters, in case any of those pirates cross our path.” He sighed and tipped his head up, looking at the clear, cloudless sky stretching toward sunset. “Although it’s a little silly to be worrying about unknown, unnamed pirates when we’ve got enough of them already in these waters.”

Sanji looked at him a little more curiously. “It’s that bad, is it?”

“The Grand Line’s always been a pirate haven, for as long as there’s been an Age of Pirates,” Egan reasoned. “Which is most of my life. But lately it’s more like a bunch have decided not to bother with the New World and the great treasure and just settled for raiding in a certain territory. It’s not as lucrative but it’s more stable, they’re guaranteed a score from a merchant line that sails the same route over and over.”

“Why not vary the route, then?” Sanji wondered. “Or take measures, I suppose.”

“Can’t vary the route, or people would go without supplies for far too long,” Egan replied. “Measures is right, we’re loaded with all the cannon we can carry and I’ve hired on gunners. We haven’t been raided in a long time, but I hear about other ships, smaller ships who can’t manage defenses, getting hit all the time.” He shook his shaggy head. “This part of the Grand Line is the territory of a couple of pirate fleets. Most of them are easy to drive off, but the Maritime Trading company is terrified of one in particular.” Sanji didn’t even need to ask, Egan provided the answer for him almost instantly, narrowing his eyes. “Steele.”

“Never heard of him,” the cook said, unimpressed.

“He’s managed to rack up a forty million beli bounty,” Radolf explained, “because he’s got a kind of cannon nobody around here has seen before. Rumor has it, it’s one of those objects they combined with a devil-fruit, though how he got a hold of it nobody knows.” From the glare on his face, the situation seemed serious indeed. “They say it can sink a galleon in a single shot. I haven’t seen it for myself, and I don’t want to. All the cannons we’ve got are no match for something like that.”

As much as Sanji didn’t like to hold to baseless rumors, there was something in the story that seemed too familiar. They had seen objects crossed with devil-fruit before, it could be trouble if it were true. “Is Nirva Island in this Steele’s territory?”

“Yep.” Egan leaned his hands on the railing beside the cook. “He’s not the kind to land at Nirva, though, because Marine ships make it a stopping point more often than not. Steele tends to stay off-shore and intercept any ships headed there. Like I say, it’s easy pickings. He hits hard and fast, snatches the cargo, and is gone before the Marines can be called in from the island. It’s only sheer luck that we’ve only met his underlings and other unaffiliated pirates so far, and not the flagship with the monster cannon.”

“And yet, you still sail the same route without hesitation.” Zoro had come out from the galley in the middle of this conversation, and interrupted now with his blunt observation. “You know he’s out there and could intercept you any day, but you don’t shy away from the challenge.”

Captain Egan looked at him, almost stunned to realize what he was saying. “No, I suppose we don’t,” he admitted. “The people of Nirva would be kind of screwed if we chickened out now.”

“Good.” Zoro continued on down the stairs, having said his piece and now ready to head off. “Any pirate who passes on the chance to get stronger just so he can sit and pick off weak merchants is only half a pirate anyway.”

Sanji shrugged, although he shared the sentiment. “My crewmate is giving you a compliment, by the way. Even though he didn’t hear how little this Steele is worth.”

Egan stared at him. “Forty million is pretty damn high for a starting bounty, you know. He got that for sinking another trading company’s flagship.”

Sanji puffed on his cigarette as he watched his crewmate stride off across the deck. “Zoro’s starting bounty was sixty million.” He suddenly flashed a sly grin at the captain. “Mine is seventy-seven million.”

Because he was up on things, Captain Egan knew their current bounties already. “That was your _starting_ bounty?” he repeated in awe.

“Yeah.” Sanji tucked his hands in his pockets and straightened up, moving to the stairs to follow his comrade. “But that’s what happens when you declare war on the World Government. Raiding merchant ships just doesn’t compare.”

He stepped down onto the deck and walked off, pausing near the mainmast to watch the sun set over the water. What neither he nor Radolf knew was that the kids from the kitchen had snuck out to listen to their conversation, but the double gasps of amazement alerted the captain to their presence now. “Holy cow, do you think he’s serious?” Rodi whispered.

“Man, these guys are like totally wanted pirates!” Bungee exclaimed, just a little too loudly. “I bet they could take out all of Steele’s fleet in just one hit! Like, bam!”

“Nuh uh,” Rodi scoffed. “Nobody can take out a ship in one hit, shut up.”

“What about Steele?”

“That’s just a story, nobody really knows.” Rodi loomed over his pal, grinning evilly. “You know why? Because everybody on every ship Steele attacks _dies!_ Nobody’s ever left alive to tell the tale.”

“You boys have been listening to Mac talk again, haven’t you?” Captain Egan turned around to confront them where they peeped around a corner. They shrank back from him, but really, everyone in his crew liked the captain and were only afraid of his brawn and bluster if it was directed straight at them. “Maybe you’d better leave the speculating to the officers, and get on back to washing dishes.”

“Captain Egan, is it true?” Bungee asked with wide eyes. “Are they really notorious pirates?”

Radolf eyed him keenly. “What if they were? What would you do?”

“Turn ‘em over to the Marines!” Rodi instantly answered. “They’re worth a lot of money!”

Bungee took a little longer to mull over his answer, under the captain’s knowing gaze. “I wouldn’t do anything to get them mad,” he finally said. “If they’re just on the ship, not doing anything, then we’re all safe.”

Captain Egan nodded slowly. “I like that answer.”

“Captain, are you afraid of them?” Rodi asked reproachfully.

“I’m not quaking in my boots, no,” Egan said boldly, “do you _see_ me looking scared? Listen, boys, there’s a lot a captain has to consider when he’s keeping his ship and crew safe. What if we run into a typhoon or a rogue wave or a sea rabbit, hmm? Do you think I’m scared of them? And yet, I have to be prepared because I know they’re out there. I don’t plan lose the ship or a single man if I can help it. That’s the big difference, you know. There are some things you just have to be careful around.”

“But captain,” Bungee said, much more softly and timidly this time. “You’re not wearing boots.”

Radolf looked down, and wiggled his toes – he was indeed wearing thick-strapped sandals instead of boots. That sent him into an uproar of laughter for several minutes, at the end of which he just wiped his eyes and patted the kid on the head. No use explaining figures of speech to him. “Go on, get back to your chores, boys. That’s enough chatter for now.”

On the other end of the ship, Zoro had already made it to the crew cabin and was lounging on the lower bunk, his swords resting against the wall next to him within arm’s reach. Sanji came in shortly afterward, putting away his cigarette butt and rolling down his sleeves. He regarded Zoro for a moment and then asked, “Keep yourself busy all day?”

Zoro glanced up at him from the shadow of the bunk. “More or less. I just wish they would have let me use the anchor for a training weight.”

“Hate to break it to you, but this ship isn’t your personal plaything.” Sanji glanced around; no one else was in the crew cabin at the moment. There were actually several of these cabins, each housing about twenty men or so. Yet, the fear that someone could walk in at any moment squashed down any temptations to fool around. He stepped up to the bunk and then nudged Zoro’s feet aside so he could sit down, ignoring his crewmate’s grumbling at having to make room for him. “No problems, otherwise?”

“Nope.” Zoro tucked his arms under his head. “I noticed a few looks, but nobody bothered me. Word gets around fast on a ship like this, I expected it.”

“It doesn’t matter to me.” Sanji slumped tiredly with his elbows on his knees. “I’d rather they knew, it saves the headache of trying to hide it. The captain hasn’t thrown us overboard, that’s all that matters.”

“He still could have called a Marine ship,” Zoro noted. “It would take them time to sail from this island we’re headed for and meet up with us.”

“Mm. I suppose it’s possible.” Sanji turned his head toward his comrade with a sly grin. “It would be fun, wouldn’t it?”

Zoro’s face brightened with a similar smile. “Yeah. I’m itching for it. That tournament barely blunted my appetite.”

“I bet.” Sanji slapped him on his bent knee, and then let his hand linger for a moment, caressing and squeezing. Zoro’s smirk changed shades, from evil to appreciative, but that was all they got. The door creaked open as a couple of the day crew wandered in. Sanji’s hand withdrew quickly, but subtly, before either of the interrupters noticed.

One of the men glanced around and spotted the two pirates in the corner bunk. “Oh, it’s you,” he sniffed with some disinterest, and then abruptly brightened. “Oh, hey – great dinner, cook! If all your meals are like that, we might just have to ask you to stay on instead of Mac!”

Sanji gave him a tired smile and a thumbs-up. “No thanks, I’ve got a position already,” he murmured. He pushed himself to his feet and slipped off his shoes before making to climb up into the upper berth. “Speaking of which, I ought to get some sleep. I have to be up early to start breakfast.”

Zoro watched him haul himself up and disappear, and then stretched back out to relax as well. The two crew members were soon followed by more, and for a little while there was a bit of hubbub around the room as everyone unwound from their long day’s work and tumbled into their bunks and hammocks, but most of them were good and tired enough to fall asleep pretty quickly. Zoro remained awake for a while, to his own surprise, mostly to listen and observe. Once the lights were doused and most of the crew was asleep, he looked up to the underside of his bunk, straining to listen for certain sounds. There was no stirring above him, so he assumed Sanji was sound asleep and finally rolled over to sleep as well.

Very shortly after dawn, Sanji pulled himself out of bed, dropped down to the floor, slid his shoes on, and made his way up to the main deck. This was closer to his normal schedule, being up before the crew in order to provide them breakfast on time, and even without a window in the cabin to know the time, he managed to get up early enough. As he crossed the deck toward the galley, wearing the same clothes as the day before and his hands tucked in his trouser pockets, he noted the night watch coming down from the crow’s nest already and the morning crew busy with the sail and the anchor to keep the ship on course. He made it to the kitchen first, and was poking around in the cabinets when the kids came stumbling in rubbing their eyes and yawning. “Oh, it’s Mr. Cook,” Rodi grumbled.

“Morning, Mr. Sanji,” Bungee said more politely. “What are you looking for?”

Sanji closed the cabinet door and turned to them. “Where do you guys keep the yeast for bread? It’s not with the other baking staples.”

“Uhh...” Bungee went straight to searching, while his cohort remained standing there blinking. “Sometimes stuff gets put back in the wrong place, sorry. The last I remember seeing it was before we left port...”

“You’re gonna bake bread?” Rodi wondered.

“You got a problem with that?” Sanji pulled his head out of the pantry and decided to check the fridge, just in case. Bungee got the same idea at the same time, so he went in low while Sanji checked the upper shelves. The kid let out a happy cry of triumph, then – he found the sack on a bottom shelf. Sanji ruffled his hair in thanks and set the yeast out on the big middle prep counter where the flour was already waiting. “It’s not for breakfast, you know. If I get started early, I can bake enough to be used for just about any meal for the next couple of days.”

“But what about breakfast?” Bungee asked.

“Already taken care of.” Sanji finished taking out ingredients, and then washed his hands to get started. “The eggs need to be used before they go bad, so we’ll make a big batch with the salted bacon. You two get on that – one of you pull out a couple rashers and get cutting, the other one gets to crack eggs. Get moving!”

The two kitchen assistants scattered in either direction to get to work, not sure whether the replacement cook would be cool or would go straight to Mac if they didn’t do their jobs. Tossing a towel over his shoulder, Sanji busied himself mixing up basic bread dough and then splitting it into batches, adding honey to half and leaving the rest plain before covering the dough-balls and setting them aside somewhere dark to rise. By that time the kids had their tasks done or nearly so, so he fired up the stove and got ready to start cooking. He noted that the youths were fairly well-trained for such basic tasks around the kitchen, though at their age he was already cooking and not just prepping and cleaning. At least it meant he didn’t need to inspect the bowl of eggs for bits of eggshell. Bungee came up beside him while he was cooking, watching intently. “You’re really fast,” he noted. “It’s like you were born to cook.”

“I’ve often thought that,” Sanji said smugly. “I’ve been a chef for over ten years, I ought to be somewhat good at it.”

“What, like a real chef?” Rodi asked as he brought over the bacon.

“Yeah, at a restaurant in the East Blue.” Sanji gave the brattier of the two kitchen workers a peering look. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, kid, I’m not here to take over your cook’s job. This is just my way of paying for our passage to Nirva Island.”

Rodi’s face turned red, and he bit his lip. “I’m not worried about that!” he shot back, a little too defensively. “But you’re a wanted pirate. I got my eye on you, and the minute you do anything pirate-like, I’m gonna have the captain call in the Marines!”

“Yeah, you do that,” Sanji said aloofly, completely wrapped in his cooking. He deftly scrambled the eggs and kept them from becoming even the tiniest bit scorched while at the same time heating a pan for the bacon. “Maybe first you can get the plates set out in the mess and put water on for tea and coffee, hmm?”

“I’ll do the coffee!” Bungee announced, hurrying to get it ready. Rodi grumbled and went to set out the plates and cutlery. In no time at all, and without Mac even showing up to help, they had breakfast ready for the first round of crew who could come in to eat. Now that the ship was asea, the crew ate in shifts depending on whether they needed to be on deck and working or not. That allowed Sanji to also cook in shifts, so that the eggs were fresh and piping hot, sprinkled with a bit of scallion and parsley, and the bacon wasn’t overdone. In between he checked the bread dough, and as the final shift was being served, he turned his attention to punching down the rising dough and kneading it with deft, powerful strokes of his hands and arms. Though they had other duties to attend to and were coming and going from the kitchen almost constantly, Bungee kept pausing to watch what the substitute cook was doing. Sanji didn’t mind an audience, as long as it didn’t distract him. He got the dough into pans and into the oven around the time the rest of breakfast was over, and stood back to admire his handiwork for a bit. The kid appeared at his elbow again, this time holding up a plate of eggs and bacon. “Don’t forget to eat, too, Mr. Sanji,” he said eagerly.

Blinking at him, Sanji wiped his hands with the towel that had been on his shoulder and then took the plate, though he didn’t sit down. Like he would with his crew, he leaned back against the counter and ate while standing so he could keep an eye on the temperature of the oven. “Thanks,” he muttered after a bit. “Good work.”

Bungee was all freckles as he grinned happily. “Just doing my job!” He bustled around the kitchen, collecting bowls and utensils to be washed, but chatted cheerily over his shoulder the whole time. “I heard what you said to Captain Egan. Are you guys really real pirates? I mean, you cook so good and you said you worked in a restaurant, how can you be a pirate?”

Sanji moved slightly out of his way, and then went over to serve himself some coffee to go with his hasty meal. “I’m a pirate for a lot of reasons,” he answered after a bit. “But I’m also a chef. It’s not like you can’t be both.”

Bungee turned from the sink towards him and hunched in close as if sharing secrets. “Is it true? Your bounty is really seventy million?”

Smirking widely, Sanji leaned down to oblige him. “Seventy- _seven_ million.”

The boy’s eyes went so wide they threatened to pop out of his face. “That’s more than Steele, and he’s famous in these parts! How did – what did you do?”

Sanji straightened up and took up his coffee nonchalantly. “Destroyed the government judicial island.”

“Wooooow...” Bungee had to wrestle himself back to his chores, though he was clearly in awe of their passengers now. “What’d you go and do a thing like that for? Judges don’t have treasure, do they?”

Amused, Sanji chuckled over his coffee and then set it down to finish eating. “It wasn’t for treasure, it was to save one of our crew. That’s the important thing to remember about pirates, kid – we would move heaven and earth for our crewmates. We don’t turn our backs on each other.”

“Was it the other guy?” The youth thumbed over his shoulder toward the mess, even though it wasn’t clear whether Zoro was actually in there right now.

“No, not him,” Sanji sighed. “He’s just a meat-head. It was for the sake of a beautiful woman, actually.”

He finished his breakfast and added the plate to the pile of dishes Bungee was working on. Rodi entered, then, carrying more stacks of plates from the mess, but he didn’t linger. Sanji took his coffee cup and leaned back to monitor the baking bread until it was finished. “Pirates sure are different everywhere, aren’t they?” Bungee remarked while he washed. “Around here they just hang out in their territory like vultures and wait for a ship to come along so they can raid it. But you guys sailed all the way from East Blue?”

“Mhm.” Sanji’s gaze unfocused as he stood and sipped his coffee, not really looking at the oven anymore while his mind traveled back through their adventures so far, and for a moment he wondered how the gang on the _Baratie_ was doing. Whether they’d seen the news about Marineford, whether they wondered if their old number-two chef had been with his captain or not. “It’s pretty simple, really,” he said after a bit. Bungee glanced at him to hear the story. “Our captain is going to become king of the pirates. We’re going to sail to the end of the Grand Line to find the One Piece.”

Bungee gaped a bit, his hands sinking down into the dishwater. “That’s so cool,” he breathed.

The door to the mess swung open and Mac stomped in, rubbing his immobilized right arm. “Rodi! Where the hell are you now, there’s work to be done...ah.” He changed direction to come inspect the speed with which his other kitchen assistant was doing his duty, and then the state of the oven. He peered at Sanji last. “Gettin’ a bit ahead of yourself, are you?”

“You were out of bread,” Sanji said plainly, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. “Figured I’d make more, in case anyone wanted toast.” Mac grabbed for the handle to the oven door, but Sanji’s foot came up swiftly and stomped on it to make sure it stayed closed. “You should know better than to open the oven when bread’s baking, shithead! You’ll make the temperature fluctuate and the bread bake unevenly!”

Mac drew back quickly, though Sanji’s kick had hit the door and not his good hand. “Don’t get too comfortable in my kitchen, pirate!” he snapped. “I’ve been cookin’ longer than you’ve been alive!”

“I don’t want to stay in your kitchen, I’ve got my own,” Sanji growled back. “If you’ve got a problem with it, then _you_ pay your captain the rest of our passenger fee. I’d be fine sitting on a deck chair the rest of the way to Nirva.”

Grumbling to himself, Mac turned away and blustered off somewhere else, still yelling for Rodi. Bungee shot Sanji a quick apologetic look but said nothing, otherwise keeping his head down and his dish-washing on track. Sanji didn’t care one way or the other, but he did have a perfectly decent batch of bread baking, and he would be damned if he was going to let anything ruin it. He stood there silently the rest of the time while the two kitchen assistants wove around him, finishing the dishes and putting them away. Once the bread was beautifully golden-brown and sitting out on the prep counter to cool, Sanji disappeared from the kitchen, leaving the staff to admire his work and hope they hadn’t offended him.

The weather was still fair and fine, and the wind had picked up a bit, so everyone on the ship was in high spirits. With such good luck filling their sails, there wasn’t a lot for the sailors to do to maintain proper course and heading, so they passed the time by challenging each other to some old-fashioned feats of strength and skill. Even Captain Egan was interested, though he didn’t participate, but rather stood up on the deck outside the bridge, watching the contests and bellowing encouragement now and then. A handful of sailors were off arm-wrestling over barrels, others were racing each other up the rigging like spiders. As Sanji came out of the galley and stood smoking for a bit, he looked around to see whether Zoro had been roped into any of these activities. It seemed right up his alley. Sure enough, he was arm-wrestling a huge sailor, and clearly having the best time in the world doing it. The fact that they were surrounded by a ring of cheering men probably had something to do with it. Zoro suddenly slammed the other man’s hand down onto the barrel, and the watchers erupted with both cheers and jeers, for some of them had bet on Zoro to win. Money and trinkets changed hands, and Zoro stood up to challenge any of the others who wanted a piece of him to try and take him down. Most of them weren’t so stupid, but after a couple of calls another sailor boldly decided he could do it, and succeed where the burlier fellow had gone wrong, so they crouched down and got to it once more.

Sanji made his way across the deck, past all of the hubbub, and climbed up the stairs to the bridge cabin high up over them. Radolf Egan was shouting down at his crew, sounding angry but wearing a grin as he demanded that they show the pride of the _Flying Serpent_ and not let some ruddy pirate get the better of them. He glanced aside as Sanji stepped up to the railing. “Ah, it’s you. All done in the mess, I take it.”

“No thanks to your cook.” Sanji breathed a long stream of smoke into the air, where it drifted forward in the wind powering their sails. “I didn’t know baking some bread to stay a step ahead of the crew’s needs was so wrong.”

“Aw, is Mac giving you lip? He can be like that.” Egan chuckled heartily. “Sorry, I didn’t know he’d get something up his ass if I took on a temp cook for the journey. It should only be...” He looked up into the sails and the proud flag flying atop the mast. “...oh, two more full days after today, if the wind holds. Just don’t hurt him any more than he already is, I need him to heal up so he can work.”

“I’m not going to kick his ass,” Sanji assured boredly. “I know how particular cooks can be about their space. He just needs to get off my back about it.”

“Well, if you need to blow off some steam...” The captain nodded to where Zoro was swiftly defeating another of his sailors. “...you can always join your crewmate and have some fun.”

“No thanks.” Sanji cast an aloof gaze down to the spectacle, glad to see at least that the swordsman was staying out of trouble. Some of the crew were definitely warming up to him, and he looked happy. “That’s his thing. I’m just going to kick back until this afternoon when it’s time to start the dinner chores.”

“Suit yourself.” Egan decided he wanted to have a closer look at all the contests, and brushed past Sanji on his way to the stairs. “Maybe later tonight we’ll break out the rum and have a real party.”

Sanji hoped that Zoro hadn’t heard that offer. He wouldn’t have minded, but there was no need to play into _all_ of his comrade’s favorite desires. For a moment he stood gazing absently at the decks below him, and then came up with an idea to pass the time his own way. He had been so busy the day before familiarizing himself with the galley layout and food supplies available to work with that he hadn’t really gotten a look at the ship, so he turned away from the railing and started exploring, checking out the galleon’s aft cabins on his own. She really was a fine ship, he thought as he poked his head into any rooms that weren’t locked or forbidden to enter. The bridge encompassed the topmost tier of cabins, housing helm control and navigation, with an array of windows mostly looking astern so the navigator could be wary of pursuit. Below that were the officers’ cabins, and a map room where it was likely the captain held conferences with his officers about the route, the course, the weather, and such things. All of the crew cabins as well as the massive, multi-compartment cargo hold were below decks, and Sanji was curious to find that there was a rear deck behind the ship at the end of the long corridor where the crew cabins and infirmary lay. He tried the door and found it unlocked, so he stepped out to discover a tiny deck jutting out, two levels below the bridge and just above sea-level, the sort of feature used for fishing and other easy access to the water. At the speed they were going, the waves of their wake just barely splashed at the bottom of the deck. It was a nice little hideaway, and Sanji stayed there to finish his cigarette before going back to exploring. The cargo hold was another level down, below sea-level, while the food stores and other supplies were at the bow-end of that level. He came back upstairs fully impressed with the ship, and sat back on a barrel near the rear cabins to watch the continuing shenanigans of the bored crew.

The day stretched on much the same way, and Zoro made the most of it. He didn’t put up any of his money in any contests, because he didn’t want the sailors knowing just how much he and Sanji were carrying. They had already spent quite a chunk of the prize money, but they had three-quarters of it left, wrapped in small bundles and tucked into various items of clothing deep in their baggage just to be safe. Zoro was in it for the physical exertion, though, and not the betting pools. Even if he promised not to use his swords for anything, he was still stronger than he looked and caught a number of would-be champions by surprise. Some of the sailors couldn’t believe he was capable of such feats, and tested him against the strongest men in their crew who routinely lifted and carried hundred-pound crates and barrels of cargo as if they were feather pillows. The swordsman held his own, though, and by the time they all decided to take a break and hang around the main deck, cooling down and passing around crude cups of water, he had at least earned their respect. A few were still wary of him, and the blond cook sitting over in the shade sort of watching them, but the pirates could not begrudge them a sense of caution. It wasn’t typical for merchant vessels to take on passengers, let alone openly-professed pirates, a little caution was well within their rights. Zoro sensed the dark eyes watching him from across the deck, and glanced to give Sanji a subtle smirk. He communicated with a twitch of his eyebrows, _you like what you see?_ Sanji’s uncovered eye narrowed, telegraphing back a mix of _don’t be so sure_ and an affirmative response that he didn’t want to own up to. Zoro caught it anyway and grinned widely before turning his attention back to the idle conversations going on around him.

Just as Sanji was about to get up and head into the galley to start preparations for the dinner shifts, loud cries erupted from the crow’s nest above them. Out of instinct Zoro leaped to his feet and grabbed his swords, even if it wasn’t his ship and the warning shouts weren’t meant for him. Captain Egan and his first mate came bursting out of the bridge, and there was a sudden clatter of feet on deck as sailors got up and rushed around. Some went up to the forecastle and looked out across the waters ahead of them, which was where the lookout was pointing from above. One came running back across the deck, shouting as he went to relay the news. “Tall ship dead ahead! Lookout says they’re flying a black flag!”

“Pirates,” Egan grumbled. “Maintain course! Call up the gunners, get them to their stations! All hands on deck!”

Sanji was the only one not running across the main deck, slowly making his way to where his crewmate stood amid a sea of panicking, rushing sailors. “Kind of funny, seeing it from the other side,” he noted. “That’s twice now, just recently.”

“Good to know that regular people still take the flags seriously,” Zoro murmured as he gazed out across the blue waters. He could see the tiny shape of the ship far ahead, but only the lookout had a spyglass to make out any flags at this distance.

“I wonder if it’s more small fries, like the ones that attacked the _Lotus_ ,” Sanji said, scratching at his scruffy chin. “The captain didn’t sound like he was expecting to be waylaid on this trip.”

“You guys were talking about some pirate last night.” Zoro turned his gaze to Sanji, his face lighting up with that dangerous glint he tended to wear when battle was near. “Maybe it’s him.”

“Steele? If it is,” Sanji warned, “he’s got some kind of special cannon.”

“Good.” The dangerous look intensified into blood-thirst. “This is just what I was hoping for.”

Sanji stood with his hands in his pockets, but the corner of his mouth curled in a rather similar grin. “You’re not the only one, moss-head.”

The navigator on the bridge had the eternal posts that allowed the merchant ship to travel her route, and was keen on keeping them on course as much as possible. If battle was joined, they would have to veer off to one side or the other, requiring the utmost in attention from the navigator and the helm. Captain Egan had taken a moment to arm himself, and now stormed around his ship with a pistol in his waistband and a saber at his side, barking out orders right and left as he headed to the forecastle to keep watch for himself. There was much to do to prepare the ship for battle, and the crew raced to secure everything and position themselves to act the moment an order was given, since many hands were needed to man the sails and lines in order to turn the ship this way or that to face their enemies. They wouldn’t know until they were closer just what they would be facing, but they had to be ready well before that point. It seemed like the other ship was just sitting there, not moving in any direction, not even towards them. It was very suspicious behavior, and had Radolf on edge. The lookout in the crow’s nest spotted the crucial detail before he did, and without thinking, yelled out, “It’s Steele! That’s Steele’s mark! It’s Steele’s flagship!”

As much as the captain would have wanted to avoid panic by keeping that announcement between the lookout and himself, it was too late. The news rippled through the ship and drove everyone into fresh action, though most were smart enough to wait for orders first. The cannon ports couldn’t be opened until the last minute, in order to keep back that surprise, but they had to decide which way to turn and whether they could try to run. Any other ship and it would have been obvious they would stay and fight, but that flag, that man, that ship? Even Radolf was wondering if he should give the order to break from course and try to flee. He cleared the stairs in two big steps and hustled back across the deck to the bridge the instant his own eye confirmed the mark on the flag as Steele’s, two crossed cannons instead of bones beneath the leering skull wearing a crown. Halfway there, he passed the two pirates and only turned his head in their direction as he went. “You two better lay low if you want to live,” he said gruffly.

Both men were standing there as though watching a lovely sunset, and both turned to regard his pronouncement with dry looks of disinterest. “Looks like you have a little problem, captain,” Sanji sniffed. “Is the crow’s nest right?”

Egan paused and turned to them. “Yeah, it’s Steele all right,” he said in a low tone so few would overhear.

Zoro flashed him his hungry grin. “Looks like we’re staying topside, then.”

“You can’t expect us to just hide when there’s someone interesting picking a fight,” Sanji added.

“It ain’t your fight,” the captain said bluntly. “Pirate or not, he’s after my ship and my ship’s going to fight him.”

“What about this devil-fruit-like cannon you were telling me about?”

For the briefest moment, Captain Egan’s brave, unshakeable countenance wavered. “We’ll think of something,” he vowed desperately. “Stay out of it!”

He turned to continue to the bridge, but Sanji laughed dangerously. “I don’t think so,” he declared. “If your ship sinks, we’ll never get back to our captain and crew.”

“Like hell if we’re going to let that happen,” Zoro said darkly, setting his hand on the topmost sword hilt so that they all rattled. Egan turned back to them again, and Zoro faced him squarely. “Do whatever you have to do. But we’re going to fight.”

“Fine,” Egan said hastily. “Whatever you want. But I’m not giving you any refunds if you die!”

He finally continued on toward the bridge, leaving the pirates to do as they pleased. They remained there near the mainmast for now, patiently waiting for the ships to come closer and the fight to actually start. Zoro shifted back and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Sanji, watching expectantly. “What’s this about devil-fruit?” he asked in a low murmur.

“That’s the thing that’s got all these guys in such a fluster,” the cook replied. “It’s just a rumor, but they say this Steele is dangerous because he has a cannon that ate a devil-fruit and is unstoppable. Sinks ships in one shot.”

Zoro boggled at him. “Cannon that ate a...?” But then he remembered that such a thing was, apparently, possible, given the tales from their crewmates about some of their past opponents. He thought about it and then snorted in disbelief. “It’s not like we haven’t defeated devil-fruit users before. They’re not unstoppable.”

“No, sir,” Sanji agreed suavely. “We just have to find out which fruit it is, first.”

As the _Flying Serpent_ drew closer to the waiting vessel, it seemed the wind and the current were taking it slightly to the left of a direct line. Accordingly, the helm began to veer to port, and the order was sent down to prepare to open the starboard-side cannon ports. There really was nowhere to run; even if they did break from their course now, it would just leave the pirate ship with a wide opening and the same tailwind with which to catch up. Steele’s flagship was grand but not a galleon, so it might have proven faster, and then they would have to contend with the rumored evil cannon being pointed right at their stern. The only option was to stand and fight, and so the orders were called out. The sails were suddenly trimmed, the helm turned, and the whole ship came swiftly to a halt with her starboard side facing the enemy ship at a distance. They had managed to stop at the furthest edge of cannon range, as if to dare the pirate ship to make the first move. It was clear to everyone now that it was indeed Steele’s ship, the flags stood out in the wind and they could see the gargoyle-like figurehead that supposedly belonged to him. There was a tense moment of waiting, while the ocean quieted and lapped at the galleon’s hull, and then something on the forward deck of the opposing ship flashed. The boom of the cannon came a second later, and the entire crew of the _Flying Serpent_ held their collective breath, waiting to see if they were going to die in one shot like the rumors foretold.

Captain and helms-crew had timed their move just right. The cannon shot whistled like fireworks as it approached, rising to a scream, but the blow landed in the water about twenty feet too short. The whole ship seemed to sigh in relief, but a second later there was a huge underwater explosion in that spot, sending the ship surging sideways and rocking precariously on the shocked waves. Water sprayed high into the air and rained down on the deck, wetting almost everyone who had the poor sense to be standing there gaping in awe. Captain Egan stood high on the bridge deck where his crew could see him, watching the further effects of the unknown cannon with a dark glare on his face. “So it’s true,” he muttered, not caring whether anyone was nearby him to hear. “The cannon turns any shot into a timed explosive. That’s why it sinks ships in one hit – it’s not shooting an iron ball through your hull, it’s blowing the damned thing up!”

From behind him came those two familiar voices. “What the hell devil-fruit does that?”

“Who cares? Now we know how to stop it.”

Radolf turned around to find the two pirates, quite dry, standing on the upper deck with him. Sanji had rolled his sleeves back up, and was smoking again. Zoro drew two of his blades on the spot. “Yeah, I suppose that’ll work. At least the explosions will be smaller.”

“Just make sure you aim right, smartass.” Sanji nodded toward the captain. “Oi, you might want to get out of the way.”

Captain Egan eyed them. “What the hell are you two going to do?”

“Save your damn ship,” Zoro retorted, placing Wadou Ichimonji between his teeth and drawing the third blade.

“Better make it quick, too,” Sanji said with another nod, this time using it to gesture to the other ship. “They’re on the move. I don’t think they’ll miss, this time.”

Egan looked quickly out to sea; sure enough, the pirate ship was coming closer, using oars to row against the wind and reposition itself. The super-cannon was mounted on the fore-deck, but could pivot in any direction, and even now was rolling to stay locked on the _Flying Serpent’s_ aft. That was a nice, big target, and if they could explode it, the rest of the ship would go down and the cargo would be left untouched, floating in the sea for anyone to recover. Captain Egan swung over the railing and leaped down to the next deck, bellowing orders to open the cannon ports and prepare to fire. Meanwhile, Sanji shifted into a fighting pose, keeping his eye on that strange cannon. Zoro remained several feet behind him, three swords ready. “You’d better aim, yourself,” he warned from behind a sword-hilt in the mouth. “I don’t want to land in the water.”

“You won’t,” Sanji stated. “I know what I’m doing.”

Anyone in the crew not immediately occupied with preparing to fire cannons might have noticed them up on the top deck, staring down the oncoming pirate ship. Anyone who didn’t duck in fear could watch their next move. Steele’s ship was still some distance away, but it had closed the gap and was ready to fire again. The cannon flashed brightly, and the second shot came tearing toward the mainmast. At the right moment, Zoro burst from his place and ran towards Sanji, crossing the two swords over the one in his mouth. Sanji waited, then crouched and sprang straight up, extending one leg. Zoro leaped onto that leg, barely touching it when Sanji lashed out, launching him straight upwards into the cannonball’s path. Those watching fully expected a collision and a mid-air explosion, but none came. There was a flashing of blades so fast no eye could follow, and then pieces of cannonball spiraled off in multiple different directions. They exploded shortly after, but each one was smaller than the whole and only concussed the air or water. The moment he touched down Sanji leaped again, over the railing and down onto the main deck. Zoro thudded to a landing near him, silently pleased with the results of their Armee de L’aire Rock Hunting combo. Steele’s pirates, however, were not so pleased. There was a massive outcry that could be heard over the water, and the super-cannon swung to target the spot where the two had launched from a moment ago. Sanji had expected this, and that was why he moved so quickly. He was in a new spot from which to launch a second attack, same as the first, and didn’t even have to leap. He picked up his leg and waited for Zoro to rush him, at which point he kicked out and then up to fling Zoro into the air once more. There was more of an angle to this one, sending Zoro flying to meet the third cannon-shot. Only he could have performed this move, for his flying slashes were cutting through the explosive cannonballs without contacting them, delaying the explosion until the pieces were no longer in damage range. After the second successful counter, the sailors of the _Flying Serpent_ dared to cheer – their ship was being protected! The so-called deadly devil-fruit cannon of Steele was no longer a threat! At that, the hatches on the starboard side flipped open, and the _Flying Serpent_ unleashed her counterattack of perfectly normal cannonballs into the oncoming flank of the pirate ship.

Zoro landed on top of the bridge, and remained there in a crouch while he watched the enemy cannon swivel around again. He was too far from his comrade to pull off another Armee de L’aire move, but if it shot again, he needed to cut the cannonball before it could impact and explode. His eyes narrowed; if only there were a way to get over there and cut the cannon itself! But they were still too far apart to board, and he doubted Sanji could kick him that far. The barrage from the merchant ship delayed any follow-up shots, but then it came, straight at Zoro. He stood up, his senses zeroing in on the fast-rushing cannonball, and didn’t need to leap to meet it this time. Instead, he twisted his body and unleashed the three-sword strike of a 108-Pound Cannon, a twisting air current that actually caught the cannonball and flung it back towards Steele’s own ship. It fell short, but the resulting explosion rocked the pirate vessel back and sent both ships listing crazily. In that moment, Sanji called out across the deck. “Captain! Turn towards them, now! This is your chance to board them!”

Captain Egan stared at him, but fortunately, caught on quickly and relayed the order. When he had conspired to stop his ship, he had left it so that one good turn of the rudder would allow their sails to catch the wind again and they would be off like a shot. Instead of fleeing, though, they were in position to suddenly move closer to the pirate ship while the other was still trying to regain balance from Zoro’s errant deflection. First, the _Flying Serpent_ let off another volley, and then the order came _hard to starboard!_ The ship veered abruptly, throwing anyone not prepared for it off their feet for a moment, and within a few heart-pounding seconds she had come right alongside Steele’s pirate ship. The opposing crews could look each other in the eye from this distance. The super-cannon threw off sparks as it wheeled around and aimed straight for the middle of the merchant ship’s deck, but they were close enough now that it would never make that shot. Sanji had vaulted up to the bridge during the chaos, and now used his Armee de L’aire one more time to fling Zoro across the divide between ships. The swordsman landed right in front of the muzzle of the devil-fruit cannon and flung his two swords upwards in a powerful slash. It didn’t cut the cannon, but sliced the deck holding it, and the momentum of the swing tipped the muzzle upward as well. The cannoneer couldn’t get off the shot lest he risk the explosive shell landing straight back down on their own deck. Two slashes more and the deck collapsed, sending the cannon plummeting down into the hold below.

The crash almost went unnoticed, for the merchant ship was now locking itself with its foe, cannon-hatch to cannon-hatch, and the sailors who were secretly fighters as well started crowding the railing in the hopes that they could board the pirate ship and show them what it meant to tangle with the finest ship in the Obel Maritime Fleet. Sanji leaped down among them, eager to get across the gap and assist his crewmate before he could tear up the whole ship himself and leave none for anyone else. The pirates on Steele’s ship had recovered enough to fight back, throwing grappling lines over to the galleon to secure it to be boarded in turn, but they had the disadvantage. Captain Egan hurriedly trimmed the sails before the two ships could lurch into each other and be driven by the wind, and then yelled for his men to “get over there and put every man to the sword!” Somewhere in the chaos aboard the pirate ship, another voice was screaming orders to counter, a hysterical and angry voice. From amid the gusts of smoke and sea-spray emerged a fat man in a richly-trimmed purple cape and crown, armed to the teeth with multiple pistols and an oversized rifle. Such was the first glimpse Sanji and Zoro – and many of the merchant crew – had of the pirate captain Steele, and they instantly hated his odious form. He called for his men to repel the attack, and a wave of pirates raced to obey with a roar of excitement. The sailors of the Obel ship were a step ahead of them, and leaped over the railing onto the deck of the enemy ship with guns and blades drawn.

Zoro was already on board the pirate ship, and gleefully cut his way through the swarm of enemies that came after him for ruining the cannon. Few could even block his swings, let alone hold their own against him, but he was just pleased to be in the middle of a real fight again. At the same time Sanji sprang across the gap and deftly ducked a few shots fired by pirates, charging straight into the fray. He was fast and powerful, and kicked a number of opponents into better positions for the sailors behind him to cut down as he made a hole through the crowd. His allies reeled out of his way in surprise as he mowed through pirate underlings with his feet, springing onto his hands and delivering a Party Table Kick Course to clear a whole section of the main deck at once. These small fries weren’t worth the effort, though, so Sanji left them to the merchant crew and zeroed in on Steele himself. Not that the captain was all that hard to find, he was still yelling and flailing and demanding that his crew avenge the devil-cannon and put a stop to the attempt at conquering them. From his vantage point above the main deck, he had clear shots at pretty much every attacker, and started firing wildly into the crowd heedless of whether he hit friend or foe. Sailors and pirates were falling, but the melee was so thick no one could tell who was harming who, or how. Zoro couldn’t unleash any large attacks to clear his way, now, because he didn’t want to accidentally slash any sailors, so he gritted his teeth on Wadou Ichimonji’s hilt and cut through the opposition one pirate at a time. He threw a glance to the deck below him, and was rewarded with a glimpse of Sanji’s lavender dress shirt breaking from the pack and racing to corner Steele. The pirate captain was firing two pistols up at the deck of the _Flying Serpent_ , shot after shot, presumably trying to hit Captain Egan if he could find him, but he abruptly swung around and peppered the throng once more, and then threw aside one pistol when it ran out of shot and heaved the rifle off his shoulder instead. He wasn’t aware that someone was about to pounce on him, the shift simply came at random and the shot cracked loudly at who or whatever might have been in that direction. Sanji seemed to come to a halt in mid-leap, and then his body snapped backwards with the recoil, crashing straight down onto the deck below. Steele had no idea who he had just shot, but he threw his head back and cackled all the same.

From up on the forecastle, Zoro saw everything. He suddenly thrust out his swords and gutted the three men clustering around him, making an opening so he could jump down onto the main deck. One of the sailors got free of the fight first and was already beside Sanji, shielding him from being trampled by the battle going on around them. Zoro’s thick boots thudded near him and raced over, and three swords clattered onto the deck next to them. Sanji lay limp, breathing shallowly, while the thick, sticky red stain crept across his chest and soaked his shirt. The hole was obvious – it was huge, a large-caliber shell fired at fairly close range – until the sailor clamped his hand down over it. “I’ve got it,” he breathed. “I’ll get him back to the ship, Doc can fix him up!”

Zoro wanted to move the hand and see for himself, but there was no need. Sanji had been shot in the chest, to the right side, and there was nothing he could do about it. “You’ve got a doctor on board?” he asked heavily.

The sailor nodded briskly. “I’ll make sure he gets to Doc. Don’t worry.”

Sanji wasn’t fully unconscious, though he barely cracked his eye open as his hand shot up and gripped his comrade’s arm. Zoro clasped his other hand over Sanji’s wrist in turn, and held there for a moment. He leaned in close and muttered, “Don’t die, cook. You have too much shit to do.”

Sanji groaned a bit, but said nothing. A cough followed, and blood spotted the corners of his mouth. Zoro glared down at him, and then pulled himself free, grabbing his swords as he rose to his feet. He actually sheathed Wadou Ichimonji, but kept the other two blades naked and ready. Steele didn’t deserve better. He looked up to where the pirate captain was still firing indiscriminately into the crowd and knew what he had to do. He moved silently but for the tread of his boots, dashing across the deck, up the stairs, and right up to Steele without anyone getting in his way. The pirate captain whirled around only when he felt the stir of air, and let out a scream as the swords swiftly relieved him of his guns with no heed to whether they drew blood in the process. Zoro stopped only when he was face-to-face with his foe, the two blades crossed at the man’s throat. Steele was even uglier up close, pockmarked and gap-toothed with bulging eyes, not at all improved by the glittery crown on his head. “Who...what are you...MEN!” It was harder for Steele to scream with two swords threatening to rip open his jugular, but he managed. “Protect your king! Help me!”

Zoro stared him down with a murderous glare. “You can’t even be bothered to defend yourself,” he said in a low, breathy growl. “Coward. You don’t deserve a bounty.” With one jerk of his arms, a head went rolling across the deck and the screaming suddenly stopped.

About half the pirate crew witnessed the execution, and the momentum of the fight faltered as they reacted in terror and reeled away from their opponents. The teeming mass of struggling people thinned out almost immediately as pirates scrambled to and fro, not sure what to do with their captain dead and their vaunted cannon somewhere in the bottom of the ship. That was the moment Captain Egan chose to come barreling into their midst, flanked by his officers and all their sabers drawn and bristling. In that instant the tide of the battle turned as the men of the _Flying Serpent_ chased down anyone still trying to mount a defense and either killed or subdued them, depending on whether the pirates were interested in dropping their weapons or not. A small knot of them disappeared down into the hold, presumably to secure, salvage, or foolishly try to use the devil-cannon, necessitating several sailors break away and chase after them. Fighting was still going on, though it was starting to wind down in due order, but Zoro had reached the end of his desire to join it. He had carried out a crucial move that essentially saved the merchant ship once and for all, and now he was done. He sheathed Kitetsu, but worked his way back down to the middle deck with Shuusui still out just in case. Looking around swiftly, he spotted the young sailor who had risked himself to protect the injured cook still trying to lug him back to the ship, but Steele’s ship was lower in the water and they would need a ramp lowered to transport all of the wounded up over the railing of the _Flying Serpent_. By the time he reached them, Zoro had no more need for weapons, and quietly sheathed his final blade. The sailor looked up at him, his eyes widening at the blood splatter sprayed across Zoro’s shirt and the roiling, dark look in his eyes. “O-oh, you’re back,” he stammered. “I was just...”

“Don’t worry about it.” Zoro’s voice was heavy, but sounded almost emotionless with no inflection. He looked down to see that the sailor had pressed some kind of cloth, perhaps a sash or bandanna, against the wound to try to stem the bleeding while he half-dragged, half-carried Sanji as far as the deck’s edge and the railing. Zoro bent down on the other side and pressed his fingers against his comrade’s neck to assure himself he was still alive, and then began to gather him into his arms. The sailor wisely backed out of the way. “I’ve got it from here,” Zoro said gruffly.

“W-wait, they should get a ramp down any second now,” the sailor implored, but to no avail. Zoro hefted Sanji up in his arms, vaguely heartened by the fact that he hissed and winced in pain – not just alive, but aware. It wouldn’t be easy to climb up onto the other ship with this burden, but damned if he wasn’t going to try. He was in a hurry, and needed to find the doctor.

Even as the swordsman put a foot up on the railing, intending to jump, Sanji’s hand fisted on the front of his shirt. “What are you doing to me?” he demanded to know in a choked whisper.

“Just hold still.” Zoro wasn’t trying to jostle him, it was a consequence of the journey. He couldn’t leave him there, after all. Paying no heed whatsoever to the remnants of battle behind him, he mustered himself and sprang up to the higher railing, almost missing it but managing to just slip over it and land in a crouch. Sanji continued to cling to his shirt, the only grip he had, though Zoro was holding him tightly beneath his back and under his knees. The hard impact of landing forced another wet, bloody cough out of the cook, so Zoro waited until it passed before rising and striding off across the deck. There were plenty of crew members still on this side, those not suited for fighting and those who needed to keep the _Flying Serpent_ from listing and drifting while haphazardly tied to the other ship. It was to them Zoro shouted. “Which way to the doctor?!”

The two young kitchen assistants ran to him, and then past him, gesturing. “This way!” Bungee called out. “Follow us!”

Sanji’s hand tightened again. “Put me down,” he snarled under his breath, “I can walk by myself!”

“Shut up.” Zoro cared nothing for his crewmate’s thoughts on how embarrassing this might look. He strode across the deck, following the kids, with Sanji’s head resting against his shoulder. The cook’s breathing was becoming more labored, tinged with hisses of pain, and he was still bleeding profusely. Bungee and Rodi led him down into the corridor by the crew cabins and off through a doorway to the left, which opened on a room already filled with a number of the ship’s crew moaning and grumbling about their cuts and bruises. An older man with his sleeves tied back was just turning away from pulling a sheet over someone on the far table who hadn’t survived the fight. “Oi!” Zoro said sharply. “You the doctor?”

The man turned and stumped closer, waddling a little from some unknown ailment perhaps due to his age. He looked older than Mac. “That’s me. What’ve you got there?”

“Shot in the chest,” Zoro answered grimly.

“Oh. Set him down, then.” The doctor waved to another table, currently unoccupied. A couple of sailors made an outcry, to which the old man responded by rounding angrily on them. “Cases go in order of severity, not first-come first-served!” he barked at them. “You’ve just got a few nicks, one of the nurses can stitch you up in a second.”

“Nurses...?” Sanji breathed, his head lolling away from Zoro’s shoulder. But that was all he heard, for that was the moment when he finally lost consciousness.

Zoro placed him on the table as directed, rather gently. The old doctor nearly shoved him out of the way and got straight to work, yanking open Sanji’s shirt and tossing aside the bloody rag that had failed to stop the flow. The wound looked even more ugly, now, a gaping hole just below the line of Sanji’s chest, between two ribs just right of center. The doctor prodded at it, and then fetched several instruments. “Who shot him? What gun?” he asked Zoro.

“The captain. Steele,” the swordsman replied in his same gruff manner. “It was a heavy rifle.”

“Ah, shit.” The doctor grabbed Sanji’s shoulder and rolled him slightly to check his back, and then let him back down. “No exit wound, that means the bullet’s still in there. Gotta get that out before I can stitch him up.” Just then, the man on his table started rasping, heaving for breath that he couldn’t seem to get; Zoro stared at him in alarm. The doctor seemed unruffled. “And now he’s got a collapsing lung, great. Here, you – either get out of my way or hand me a syringe!”

Zoro backed out of his way with a step. “A what?”

“A big needle! And step on it!”

There were a lot of weird, unknown medical instruments on a table along the wall, but Zoro understood what a needle was. He hunted for the biggest one and handed it over without a word. The doctor didn’t flinch and didn’t reprimand again, so it must have been the right one, which he immediately jammed into Sanji’s chest near his collarbone. Several onlookers flinched, and Bungee fainted where he was watching just behind the door. The doctor looked up and then pointed at the kids. “Get him out of here! Go lay down or something, kid, this is no place for you to be! Dammit, Rodi!”

“I got it, doc,” Rodi yelped, seeing to his friend and dragging him off.

The needle was still sticking out of Sanji’s chest, but at least he had begun to breathe more normally again. The doctor gestured for Zoro to come closer again. “If you’re not gonna get out of my way, then you’re gonna help,” he snapped. “Put your hand here, and keep it there until I tell you.”

He had a piece of bandage rolled up and pressed to the wound. Zoro obeyed and pushed his hand down over it, clamping down. It allowed the doctor a moment or two to turn and fumble with his instruments, retrieving the ones he would need to extract a bullet. It occurred to Zoro, then, that he had never really watched Chopper work, aside from wrapping up minor wounds in bandages. He wondered if surgery was hard for him at all, but then, considering how severely he had been wounded by the ordeal on _Thriller Bark_ and how few scars he bore from it, their little doctor’s skills must have been even more impressive. The old doc wasn’t bad at his job, though, and he worked rather quickly, telling Zoro when to back off and when to help. In mere minutes the bullet clattered onto the table, and then there was more instruction, to hold this and push here and now get your fingers out of the way. The whole time, Sanji remained out cold, though his breathing was still faster than usual and a bit shallow, making the needle twitch and wiggle with each inhalation. After a bit, when he realized the doctor was already suturing the wound, Zoro quietly asked, “How bad is it?”

The doctor grunted to acknowledge the question, though it took him a moment to not be concentrating so hard before he could answer. “Nicked his lung, but I think I got it. He’ll live.” He squinted up from where he was closing the wound with the smallest stitches Zoro had ever seen. “What about you, you hurt at all?”

Zoro glanced at the blood on his shirt, some of it Steele’s and some of it Sanji’s. “No.”

“Then get out of my way. I don’t need you breathing on his open wound right now.”

He dismissed Zoro with a wave, but the swordsman only retreated as far as the wall by the door and leaned there, arms folded, waiting. It was obvious he wasn’t going anywhere, so no one asked him to. As he stood there, a young blond woman came through the infirmary with more bandages, leaving some near the doctor’s station before turning to the cluster of injured sailors and starting to work at wrapping them up. She passed Zoro and eyed the huge bloodstain on the front of his shirt. “Do you need assistance?”

“I’m fine,” he snapped, a little more curtly than usual. “Take care of those wimps over there.”

The sailors were all too happy to see the nurse – for that was who she was – and she patiently lined them up to apply stitches or bandages wherever necessary. Zoro eyed her as long as she wasn’t watching him, positive that the minute his crewmate woke up, he’d be pleading for her to take care of him personally. Thankfully, he was still unconscious and didn’t see her right now.

It took a few more careful minutes for the doctor to completely close the wound, bit by bit, and when he was sure the bleeding had finally stopped and the danger was past, he cautiously pulled the needle free. His patient continued to breathe at the same pace, there was no more heaving and gasping. He finished up by placing a folded bandage flat against the wound and then wrapping another around it to secure it to Sanji’s chest, more or less discarding his bloody shirt completely in the process. He looked up to see his nurse busy with the constant stream of minor casualties still coming in through the door, so he crooked a finger in Zoro’s direction. “Take him into the infirmary dorm and pick a bed. Through there.” He gestured at a second door in the opposite wall. “Don’t care which one, just put him down until Carrie can settle him. I’ve got more patients coming in.”

Zoro eased away from the wall and once again gathered his crewmate in his arms, taking an extra moment to be sure his head was supported against his shoulder before heading to the second room of the infirmary. There was one other sailor already housed in the dorm, which consisted of about a dozen beds lined up on either side of the room, but he was asleep or unconscious as well. Zoro picked a random bed on one side that already had a chair near it and laid Sanji out, checking the tautness of the bandages for himself and then removing his shoes. He didn’t know what the doctor meant by “settling,” but for now, he pulled the blankets up to at least cover Sanji’s legs, since his torso was still rather bloodied and messy, and then sat down in the chair to wait. The three swords rested against the wall beside him, their work finished for today. The dormitory section of the infirmary was left dim with fewer lights on, and felt strangely soothing, considering it was quieter compared to all of the chaos beyond its doors. At least for a time; as the minutes ticked by, more and more seriously injured crew members were brought in to occupy most of the beds, all but three or four. The nurse with the long blond hair came and went with each of them, bustling in and out of the surgery room without hardly a pause, but eventually she came over with a shallow basin of water and set it on the tiny bedstand table next to where Sanji lay. Zoro lifted his head and glanced briefly at her, his lips twisting in a suppressed smirk to think that his woman-loving comrade was still out cold while a pretty girl was bathing his chest, washing the blood away. When she finished, she drew the blankets up further and gave the stoic-faced swordsman a little smile before heading off to take care of yet another injured sailor.

No one came to bother Zoro while he sat there, and for the longest time, the room remained mostly silent except for the labored breathing of the wounded. He didn’t mind, and had no intention of leaving at any point unless they forced him out. He didn’t care how the battle was resolving, though by now it was surely over – the slowing trickle of people needing to pass through the infirmary was enough to tell. He would find out later just what happened after he departed the field of battle, when someone could find the time to catch him up on all of it. With their leader dead, the pirate crew could only mount a half-hearted defense of their ship and their lives before surrendering. The head of the notorious Steele was actually collected and stored in a barrel to be delivered to the Marines in exchange for his bounty later. There were bodies to be disposed of, prisoners to be rounded up and restrained, and the devil-cannon to be confiscated if there was a way. But when they reached the bottom deck where the giant weapon had finally come to a rest, Egan’s first mate discovered that the rumors about it being powered by devil-fruit were just that – rumors. The cannon itself was actually fairly normal, just large-sized and reinforced; it was the cannon-shot that actually had the effects built right in, specially created and engineered to be launched like normal and then explode, either on impact or on a timer. Some even had extra chemicals added to the gunpowder to produce particular explosions, burns, and other effects. No unusual powers were involved at all, just creative inventing and a well-oiled propaganda machine. In lieu of the weapon, then, the captain simply confiscated the ammunition, it was much easier to move anyway. The pirates’ ship had taken only minor damage and could still sail, so rather than make room in the cargo hold of his ship for a makeshift brig, Egan ordered the pirates to be held on board their own ship under heavy guard, whoever could be spared from the merchant crew with one of his officers to supervise them. The _Flying Serpent_ came through clean, though between the injured and the ones needed to guard their prisoners, she would have to sail with a skeleton crew until they could get to port. The second ship was lashed into towing position, and when everything had been taken care of, they finally raised sails and got underway. But by now it was sunset, and every part of the schedule, including dinner, had been completely disrupted. Captain Egan discovered almost right away that his replacement cook had been grievously injured, but stayed away from the infirmary himself and got the details through others. Going down there would disrupt the wounded who were trying to rest, even though he knew at some point he would have to thank the pirate swordsman for ridding those seas of a real menace. The ship and her crew owed their lives and safety to those two pirates, and there really would be no way for the captain to dismiss it.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recovery is a slow process even for our superstrong guys. Yes this is the hurt/comfort portion of our ride.

There were no windows to the outside at that level to show the waning of the day and the setting sun, but Zoro’s growling stomach told him that it was probably getting late. He didn’t leave his bedside vigil, though, despite beginning to wonder what time it actually was and how the rest of the crew fared. No one came into the infirmary for a good while, aside from the nurse, and even she made her visits sporadic, only checking on the status of the most serious injuries and leaving the sleepers to sleep. At one point she came to see to Sanji, but needed only a quick glance and a check of his pulse to know that he was stable for now. She leaned over to catch Zoro’s eye and whispered, “If he wakes up and is in too much pain, let me know and I’ll bring some medicine,” and then left. Zoro followed her with his eyes, thinking that his crewmate wouldn’t need it but not saying so out loud. At least no one questioned his presence there, as it seemed natural for one crewmate to look out for another when they were alone on a ship of strangers. Only when he was sure the nurse wasn’t going to suddenly reappear for another round did Zoro finally unfold his arms and comb his fingers gently through Sanji’s hair, pulling errant strands away from his right eye and cheek. He had never really been in this situation before, himself hale and untouched while one of the strongest members of the crew lay so helpless and unconscious. Usually, it was all of them equally hurt at once and yet still somehow on their feet. Part of him was annoyed that it only took one shot to fell the cook, but then, the wound was deep and the internal damage was what laid him out. He had lost a lot of blood, and Zoro was sure lungs weren’t supposed to just collapse. A fraction of an inch to any direction and he would have died, either suffocated by his own body or bleeding uncontrollably from the liver, but the swordsman didn’t know that. He sat stroking Sanji’s hair for a little bit and then withdrew when it seemed to have no effect. Inching the chair forward, he leaned in to look over his comrade more closely in the dim light, trying to discern whether he looked too pale or his breathing was uneven. Aside from the bullet wound, there was not a scratch on him. Zoro touched his shoulder with the backs of his fingers, silently willing him to wake up. The longer Sanji stayed unconscious, the more his companion was likely to worry, even if he appeared to be sleeping peacefully. Zoro knew it wasn’t always so.

Not long after, the nurse returned, this time with one of the boys from the kitchen in tow carrying a tray of bowls. Most of the people being housed in the infirmary were likewise unconscious, but the nurse gently woke one or two and offered her help giving them something to eat. As Bungee came around to Sanji’s bed, Zoro could smell the soup he was carrying. The youngster’s face fell as he realized the cook was not awake yet, but he did have one bowl left. “Are you hungry, Mr. Swordsman?” he asked, trying to keep his voice quiet.

“Hm?” Zoro had been watching him idly, but didn’t expect to be addressed. “Oh. Uh. Maybe a little.”

“Then you should eat this, before it gets cold.” Bungee offered him the last bowl. “I brought it for Mr. Sanji but...”

Zoro sat there motionless for a moment, and then stretched out an arm to take the bowl. He knew that if Sanji were able to say anything about it, he would get a lecture about wasting food if he turned it down. It was better to eat it and have them bring Sanji fresh food later, when he was awake to enjoy it. “Thanks,” he muttered, hunching over in the chair and getting right to the eating.

Bungee remained on the other side of the bed, holding the tray to his chest as he gazed at Sanji’s limp form. “Is it bad?” he whispered.

“He’ll be fine,” Zoro grunted, his attention focused on the soup. “Your doctor patched him up good.”

“Ah. Yeah, doc’s like that.” The kid heaved a big sigh. “He’s supposed to help us cook, but now Mac has to go back to doing everything again. But I was watching you guys fight. You destroyed the devil-fruit cannon. That’s how we won, because you guys helped. So, it’ll be okay. Mac can deal with it.”

Zoro raised his eyes to regard the youth, though he didn’t lower the dish at all. “I’ll let you know when he wakes up,” he said simply, and went back to eating.

“Okay.” Bungee nodded and then left, passing the nurse to tell her he would be back for the empty bowls later.

Zoro only felt a little sheepish eating in front of his unconscious comrade, but there wasn’t anything else to be done for it. He’d catch hell for wasting it, and he was hungry anyway. He finished as quickly as he could and then got up to set the bowl on the nearest empty table, taking that moment to stretch before resuming his vigil. It didn’t matter that he was in a bloodstained shirt, he would wait there until Sanji awoke. After that, his own needs could be met. The chair creaked a bit as he sank back down into it, sitting facing the bed this time. At that moment, a head popped up over the end of the bed, startling him. He hadn’t heard anyone else sneaking up behind him even though the room was so eerily quiet. A pair of large brown eyes blinked at him, and then the owner straightened up, revealing herself to be a rather small girl with a kerchief binding back her braided hair. “The wound was deep and damaged his lung,” she reported in a light, chirpy voice. “Additionally, there was much blood loss. He has a very rare blood type, transfusion is impossible. He will be unconscious for a while longer.”

Zoro boggled at her, and the way she stated such grim information in a happy tone. “Who the hell are you?” he breathed.

“My name is Noel and I’m a nurse,” the girl said in the same straightforward, sing-song lilt. “I know the medical status of everyone in the infirmary at current. Your friend will recover but he must rest and lie still. If fluid builds in his lungs, he’ll be much worse off.” She put her head to one side and added, “He should be thankful that doc could repair the damage. Internal bleeding is far worse and leads to death a high percentage of the time.”

Her astute assessment made Zoro recoil slightly. That sort of medical knowledge should not have been coming from someone who looked to be about ten years old. The other nurse, Carrie, drifted over just then, so Zoro shifted his gaze to her instead. “Is she really a nurse?”

Carrie’s face was dead serious. “Oh yes, Noel is one of Doc Martinique’s best students. We’re both on board to learn from him, so we can become better nurses and maybe doctors ourselves.”

Noel gave him another unnervingly calm look with her huge eyes. “There is no proven clinical method that will help a person regain consciousness, so you really don’t have to sit here and try. He’ll probably still be like this until the morning, so you can go and get some sleep.”

Zoro gritted his teeth and glared at her. “I’m not going anywhere,” he grumbled, fighting to keep his voice down like so many were. “If you’ve got a good reason for me to leave, then say so, but I’m still not leaving.”

Putting her head to the other side, Noel regarded him and then stated, “Lack of sleep leads to impaired judgment and slowed reflexes, in addition to a foul mood. But it’s the patient’s right to refuse treatment, including rest and sleep. I really wish you would just go to your cabin and sleep, stranger.”

For a moment Zoro nearly started an argument with her over the comment about his mood, but she really creeped him out to the point that he almost considered her advice. Fortunately, Carrie stepped in. “Leave him be, Noel. If he wants to stay here all night, he can. I don’t think he’ll disturb his friend’s rest.”

It was clear which of the nurses had the better training in bedside manner, even if the other had superior medical knowledge. Zoro huffed and sat back in the chair, folding his arms stubbornly. Noel shrugged and walked around the bed, stopping by Sanji’s shoulder to take his arm and feel his pulse. “Thready, but even,” she reported. “Proper for a resting heart rate, at least. I will check again later.”

As she turned and marched off, Carrie placed her hand over her heart and bowed slightly. “If he happens to wake up, and neither of us are here, someone should be in the next room. Please let us know if you need anything.”

Once both nurses had departed, Zoro finally felt able to settle back down and focus his attention on his vigil. Not that he was looking for anything in particular, but he felt it was necessary that he stay there, and watch, and wait. His posture relaxed, though he didn’t unfold his arms, and for a time his gaze unfocused as his thoughts turned inward. Part of him wanted to try to find a reason that this had happened, to explain away how the nimble cook managed to get himself shot this one time when he had dodged hundreds of bullets before. But it had all happened so fast, even if Zoro was looking in that direction when it happened he couldn’t recall whether Steele had seen his target or Sanji had even tried to dodge. It was stupid, and he hated seeing any of his crew taken down so easily. On the surface, he would accuse Sanji of being weak, but deep down he knew it wasn’t that. It was probably just a stupid accident, and that frustrated Zoro more than anything. You could get stronger and stronger, become the strongest in the world, and a stupid accident could destroy everything in an instant. _Just like Kuina_. He clenched his jaw, biting back the comparison. Sanji wasn’t dead, he wasn’t going to die. He wasn’t one of those weak sailors in the other beds, he was a pirate and he had survived worse. Zoro raised his head to gaze for a moment at his friend’s sleeping face, and then lowered it and closed his eyes. He could feel the late hour creeping up on him. Maybe a little nap wouldn’t be such a bad idea, as long as he stayed in that chair at the bedside.

The whole ship quieted like the infirmary as night came on, and even the captain, who had been anxiously pacing the deck since the end of combat, finally retired to his cabin. Zoro dozed on and off in the chair, waking up at random moments for no reason and checking to see if there was any change in his comrade’s progress before settling down again. After the fifth or sixth of such small starts, he shifted forward and rubbed his eyes, figuring that staying awake would be better than interrupted cat naps. He considered getting up and taking a short walk out into the corridor to stretch his legs when Sanji took a deeper breath and moaned slightly. Zoro was instantly wide awake, his hunched shoulders straightening. He waited eagerly as Sanji fought his way to consciousness, his uncovered eye blinking open hazily and finally focusing on him. His breathing evened out, and for a minute or two he simply laid there while his senses returned to normal and gave him a picture of where he was. Zoro was not content with the silence, though, and leaned in even closer. “Oi, cook,” he murmured. “You with me?”

Sanji’s eyes closed for a moment, and then focused on him again. “Nnh. Shit.”

Zoro’s lips quirked with a sort of smile. “Heh. That’s more like it.”

Sanji took a moment longer to figure out where he was, not wanting to bother asking a bunch of questions even if he had them in mind. His body ached, though, and a fiery pain in the right side of his chest made it uncomfortable to breathe. In the end, he settled on the obvious query: “What happened?”

Zoro’s expression faded a little. “What do you remember?”

Sanji grunted. “I know I got shot, dumbass...” Talking too much was painful, so he paused now and then in order to get it all out. “I mean after. What happened to the ship. And that…fat bastard...?”

“I killed him.” Zoro’s voice was the definition of flat. “I don’t know much about what happened after, I’ve been in here with you since. But I suppose you can say we won.”

“Nnh.” Sanji let his eyes close again. “Good.”

Zoro laced his fingers together in his lap to keep from doing anything sappy like touch his comrade in this moment. “You need anything?”

Sanji took a couple of slow breaths before looking up again. “Water,” he breathed. “My throat’s on fire.”

There hadn’t been any water left on the bedstand, so Zoro got up and hunted around the room for anything remotely drinkable. There were glasses on the table where the soup dishes had been (they had since been cleared away) but no pitcher or ewer. Grumbling to himself, Zoro checked the next room over. To his consternation Noel was on duty, sitting on a tall stool reading a medical journal. “Oi,” he said to get her attention. “You got any water to drink? My crewmate’s awake.”

Noel blinked at him, though her expression remained blank. “Earlier than I expected,” she remarked as if in surprise. “Very well. I will bring it in a moment.”

Sighing, Zoro returned to the bedside and dropped down into the chair. Sanji glanced up at him, but they had no time to share more than a glance when the nurse came around the bed with a glass already filled and a small pitcher, both of which she set on the bedstand. First she had to look over the patient, checking his pulse and leaning into his face and almost brushing aside the sheaf of hair to check his eyes. Sanji managed to raise a hand to block just in time. “What are you doing?” he rasped. “Get off me...”

“That’s your nurse,” Zoro grunted, glad that he wasn’t the only one being bothered now.

Noel did not seem disturbed by the protest. “Please stop flailing about and let me do my job, sir,” she said frankly. “You have regained consciousness but you are not perfectly well, yet. Much can still go wrong.”

Sanji frowned at her. “I didn’t get shot in the face, so leave it. I just want water. And then a cigarette. And then sleep.”

The nurse’s large eyes hardened. “You will not smoke for as long as you are a patient in this infirmary. Your lung was damaged, you will aggravate the condition and make yourself worse.”

Sanji looked positively devastated, since he didn’t have the energy to sit up and argue. The idea of going through withdrawal in his state was even more disheartening. “Well…then…at least give me the damn water,” he complained.

Noel wasn’t done poking and prodding him, though, and made him wince and wheeze several times as she checked his bandages and the wound, even brushing Zoro out of the way in order to come to that side of the bed and reach Sanji’s injured side more easily. She did not share her prognostication with them, though, and only when she was finished did she return to the other side of the bed and offer him the glass of water. Sanji tried to push himself up to reach it, but the bending and straining of his torso sent searing needles of pain through his chest, forcing him to give up and lie back with teeth bared angrily. Zoro abruptly reached over and grabbed the glass from the girl, and then slid closer to assist in tilting Sanji’s head up so he could drink with a little dignity. Sanji only dribbled a little, but the relief of cool water soothing his dry throat was enough that he didn’t care. Noel watched impassively, and then patiently asked, “Do you need anything for pain, or have you any other symptoms I should know about?”

Sanji stifled any groans of pain as Zoro continued to hold him up in that position so he could drink, a sip at a time. “No,” he finally said, “I’m fine.”

Noel’s look seemed to imply that she didn’t believe him. “Very well,” she said. “I am on call until dawn if you change your mind.” She eyed Zoro briefly, and then left them to go back to her book.

A few sips later, Sanji gave a small shake of his head. “Enough. Let me lie down.”

Zoro helped him do so, and then stretched to put the glass on the table on the opposite side of the bed. “How’re you really feeling?”

Sanji raised his eyes, taken slightly aback by his comrade’s insistent care – and the fact that he actually asked. “I’ve had worse,” he murmured, which was technically true. “Tired, though.”

“The doctor said you lost a lot of blood.” Zoro glanced down and picked at his shirt – there was quite a bit of it there. “Uh. I guess that might be part of the problem.”

Closing his eyes, Sanji sighed a bit. The nurse’s inspection had told him exactly where his wound lay beneath the wrap across his chest, and now it hurt with a slow burn. He moved a hand over it as if to soothe it. “Why are you still sitting here...go change your damn shirt, idiot.”

Zoro did not say that he had chosen to stay there until Sanji woke up. It was probably obvious, anyway. He still didn’t like how feeble and harsh his voice sounded, the pace of his breathing, the pallor of his skin, but things like that would improve with time. It was only a few hours after the injury, after all, and if Sanji couldn’t get a quick transfusion, he had to rebuild all that lost blood the old-fashioned way. Zoro set his hand briefly on the one lying on the blanket as he got up from the chair, keeping his gaze averted as he straightened up. “As long as I’m going, you need anything?”

Sanji squinted up at him. “A shirt,” he replied after a moment’s pause. “It’s cold in here.”

Zoro didn’t think it was at all, but the point was made. He nodded silently and drifted to a second door in the opposing wall, not even thinking about where it might lead. Fortunately, it put him in the main corridor, so all he had to do was wander up the length of it to find the crew cabin where they had been sleeping. Being Zoro, he managed to open every single door between the infirmary and the cabin he needed before locating the correct one at the far end, and had to do his best not to wake up all the slumbering sailors he ran into along the way. The empty bunks here and there spoke to the handful of casualties and the men sent over to the pirate ship to guard the prisoners, even if Zoro still did not know the story behind that. He found their bunks in the appropriate room and rooted around in the duffel in the dark, finally pulling out something he would care to wear and a spare dress shirt for his comrade. He tugged his blood-spattered shirt free of his haramaki and cast it off, and hurriedly threw the fresh shirt on when he heard someone stirring. He decided to take a moment to step up on deck and see how late it was before going back down, since he knew Sanji to be in no danger at the moment. The night sky studded with stars took him aback, though really, it was well after midnight by now. The ship was nearly still in the water, the sails trimmed, and the night watch was on duty. Everything was quiet and peaceful, as though there hadn’t been a battle at all. Zoro breathed deeply of the cool, salt-tinged air for a few minutes, and then went back below decks to finish his errand.

The shirt he had chosen for Sanji wasn’t very thick, but as long as he left it unbuttoned, the nurses could still have access to change his bandages without making it a major production each time. And that was exactly what was going on when Zoro returned to the infirmary – Sanji was sitting up, his teeth furiously gritted, while Noel re-wrapped his chest. She was too small to lift him and get it done the way the doctor had earlier, necessitating that Sanji hunch there in pain until she was done and let him flop back down. Zoro thought about throwing the shirt at him, but wisely waited until the bandaging was over and the tiny nurse had vanished back into the other room. That way, he could help if his comrade needed it – and he did. The grimace that remained on Sanji’s face showed just how much he hated having to ask for that assistance. At long last he was settled comfortably, the shirt’s collar drawn up around his neck and blankets pulled as high as they could go. “Thanks,” he managed to breathe quietly. “Now I can get some damn sleep.” He glanced aside as Zoro heaved himself into the chair again. “...you’re staying there.”

“Got a problem with that?” The swordsman had also opted for a button-up shirt, because he was lazy. He wrapped it closed around himself and slumped down, clearly intending to sleep in that chair and brooking no argument. His eyes remained open, though, and he stared at Sanji as if in challenge.

Sanji didn’t have the energy to argue. He was exhausted, and the pain only subsided if he stayed still and tried to quiet his breathing. His gaze remained directed at Zoro, though it softened as his eyes drifted closed and real sleep crept up on him. He was out in minutes. Only then did Zoro allow himself to doze off as well.

 

As much as his battered body craved rest, Sanji found himself sleeping fitfully, waking up on and off over the next few hours. Most of the time he just settled back down and tried not to think about the dull ache in his chest, but once or twice he stole glances at the man in the bedside chair. Zoro dozed with his arms wrapped around himself, head down, snoring very lightly. Nothing needed to be said about his presence there, Sanji understood the unspoken implications all too well. He slept as much as his body would allow, since he was unable to roll over or curl up, until a certain point when his mind seemed to wake up and stay that way. Even with his eyes closed he could hear the stirring of the other patients, the creak of the door as a nurse came in to check on everyone, and Zoro’s deep breathing, and he envied the man for being able to sleep in that chair as if it were a luxury bed. He attempted to fall back asleep as best he could, until he heard the door close and the room go still again in the wake of the nurse’s departure. At that moment he cracked an eye open and then reached out to nudge Zoro’s knee. The act of stretching his arm was more painful than he expected. “Oi,” he whispered, not sure what he would do if the swordsman proved to be as sound a sleeper as usual.

Whether the timing was convenient and he was waking up, or he had somehow entered a watchful state of light sleep so that the slightest noise would get through to him, Zoro’s head came up as he awoke with a “Hm?” He saw Sanji’s hand ease back onto the bed and roused himself. “What’s the matter?”

Sanji hated having to say it, but it was imperative. “I need a hand.”

“With what?”

Sanji breathed a short sigh, and then fixed his comrade with a pathetic look. “I need to take a piss. And then have a cigarette.”

Zoro blinked, and then sighed as well. “So much for ‘I can walk by myself.’ All right.” Looking both ways to make sure the medical staff was long gone and unaware, he pulled back the blanket and helped his crewmate to sit up, first, so he could adjust to being vertical. Sanji winced and breathed a little heavier, but willed himself to take the strain for the sake of his other needs. With Zoro’s arm around him he could get to his feet easily, but beyond that he would need to lean on the other man and fully acquiesce to his assistance. They didn’t even bother with his shoes, Zoro just steered him toward the door and let him set the pace. By the time they were in the corridor Sanji had at least found the strength to keep walking, despite the arm around him holding him tight and supporting his full weight. The bathroom was down the corridor from the infirmary, past the crew cabins in the opposite direction of their belongings, but that had to be done first. Zoro didn’t really help him with that, he just got Sanji there and then stood with his back politely turned. “Where’s your cigarettes?” he wondered.

“Should still be in my pocket,” Sanji replied tiredly. “Unless someone took everything out of them.” There was a moment of rustling and the jingling of his belt buckle and chain, and then a sigh. “Yeah, I’ve got ‘em.”

“That creepy nurse looked like she would tear you a new hole to smoke out of if she caught you doing it,” Zoro noted. “How are you going to get away with it?”

Sanji didn’t answer for a moment, mulling it over while he finished and zipped up. “Wait. I know.” He washed his hands and then suddenly wobbled, at which point Zoro turned and reached to catch him before he could stumble against the sink. The cook waited for another moment until his head stopped spinning. “There’s a rear deck, at the end of the hall. We should...sneak out there.”

“Ah.” Zoro ducked under his arm and shouldered his weight once more, guiding him out of the bathroom and back down the corridor. Fortunately, the little door to the rear cabin was close by, so they crossed to it and tried the latch. It was still unlocked. They glanced around to see if anyone would stop them, but no one else was even moving around on that level at the moment. Sanji ducked through first, though Zoro still supported him for the most part, and gave a soft sound of relief at the sight which met them. The rear deck was empty, deserted, and in shadow, for the sun had just risen somewhere toward the front of the ship. The sky behind them was purply-blue with morning twilight, peppered with a net of tiny clouds, each one edged in pink as though they were little cakes smeared with vivid-colored icing. Of course, the pirate ship was also back there, but off to one side and at the end of a tow rope long enough that no one on board could have seen anyone on the rear deck clearly. The _Flying Serpent_ had just caught the morning wind rising and was already underway, though the ocean was calm enough that they left only twin trails of white foam across the dark blue seawater. Sanji stood still for a bit taking in the sight of the back side of morning, and then tested himself, trying to move away from Zoro under his own power. He did all right, but as he neared the railing, he wobbled again and caught himself with both hands on the rail. Zoro came up behind him, and even with the black hulk of the captured ship within sight, he dared to put his arms around his companion’s waist and hold him up. Sanji sagged against him, completely giving in. Once he felt secure enough, he dug in his pocket and retrieved a cigarette and a match from his tobacco purse. It was a testament to their camaraderie that the swordsman never even questioned his need to go against medical advice and smoke, but rather aided and abetted him in the rebellion.

Sanji stood and smoked without a word for as long as Zoro remained as his support to keep his legs from folding beneath him. As tired as he was, the act of smoking still felt good, and soothed the first jagged edges of irritation that had been slowly creeping up on him. He shivered, and wrapped the loose edges of his shirt over his chest to protect it from the morning chill. At least they understood why the ship was still so quiet, if it was only minutes after dawn. Zoro’s embrace deepened, then, his arms folding even more closely around Sanji’s slender torso to help keep him warm, his chin coming to rest on the cook’s left shoulder. He was very careful not to let one of his arms touch the bandage wrapping over the wound, let alone squeeze it too tightly. He didn’t mind any wisps of cigarette smoke that wafted his way; were he to be honest, he had sort of gotten used to the scent already since hints of it clung to Sanji’s shirts most days. Yet, Sanji was also doing his best to keep his head turned away so the smoke would drift the other direction as he exhaled. About halfway through the cigarette he started coughing a little, pressing the back of his hand to his lips to try to quiet it. Zoro patiently held him until it passed, and didn’t suggest maybe he shouldn’t smoke. Sanji winced, and returned the cigarette to his lips just to hold there for a bit. “Shit, that hurts,” he mumbled. “You ever been shot? It’s not like being cut up.”

“Grazed,” Zoro admitted in a similar quiet murmur. “Never had a bullet lodged in me, though.”

“It’s shit.” Sanji tipped his head back and let it rest against Zoro’s, content to accept his invasion of personal space. That left his neck wide open to be exploited, and he closed his eyes when he felt warm lips against it. It was brief, though, and then Zoro let him be, simply holding him and gazing absently down at where his arms were wrapped around the cook’s abdomen. Sanji reached a hand up to find his head, and scrubbed his fingers gently through the hair at the swordsman’s temple. His coughs were quieter, weaker, and more spread out, but he still coughed now and then. After a while, he said something so quietly that neither could be sure words were actually spoken. “…why does this feel so good?”

Zoro wasn’t so sure he should try to answer. Instead, he picked up his head and brushed his lips along Sanji’s earlobe. “Finish that thing up,” he breathed in his low, rumbly way. “It’s probably not good for you to be out of bed so long.”

Sanji smiled to himself with closed eyes. “Oh. Worried about me, are you?”

“Don’t try to start shit with me.” Zoro’s tone was light, though. “I just don’t want that weird nurse girl busting my balls instead of yours.”

Sanji took another deep breath – as deep as he could manage, anyway – and exhaled a stream of smoke upward into the air, and then ground the rest of the cigarette out against the railing. The butt went safely into his tobacco purse. “Fine,” he sighed. “Cart me on back, then. I’ll handle the nurse.”

“She’s probably too young for you, you know,” Zoro smirked as he adjusted his grip to support his crewmate’s walk back to the infirmary.

“Yeah, probably. That wasn’t what I planned,” Sanji said, turning and trying to lead the way. Zoro didn’t let him. They subtly fought for control for about three seconds before Sanji relented and let himself be half-carried across the rear deck to the door.

The journey up the corridor to the infirmary went just as slowly, though with fewer grunts of suppressed discomfort from Sanji. A few sailors were up and about by now, but none of them got in the way. The infirmary was just as quiet as before, but no sooner had Sanji settled back into bed and snuggled down into the warm blankets and the other nurse floated in, hustling straight over to the no-longer-missing patient. “Sir! You shouldn’t be out of bed at this point! Where did you go?”

No matter how tired he was, Sanji managed a suave smile for her, clearly pleased to see a pretty woman. “Ah, well, you know. A man has certain needs to take care of,” he said modestly, “especially this time of the morning. Don’t worry, my crewmate was there to make sure I didn’t slip and fall.”

Carrie pursed her lips. “I am a nurse, sir, I know how the body works and I’ve seen more than my share. If you needed to visit the restroom, you should have let me know. I could have taken care of you.”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” Sanji assured charmingly. “No harm was done.”

“I’ll have to be the judge of that.” Her tone was gentle, at least, hinting that she wasn’t really going to scold him. Sanji was more than willing to lie back and let her examine him, his visible eye practically sparkling with glee. Zoro harrumphed and left the room to go and use the bathroom himself, and maybe see about some breakfast, saying nothing about it as he departed. He never liked to be around Sanji when he was wibbling over a woman, but this time, it was for different reasons, and he knew it.

The ship was rapidly coming to life around him as Zoro climbed up the steps to the main deck and emerged into the morning sunlight. He had taken his swords with him this time, not comfortable with leaving them behind for too long. Sailors passing by greeted him as if he were part of the crew, and even the men he had beaten in arm-wrestling matches yesterday called down to him from the rigging. Zoro just nodded or waved in greeting as he pressed on toward the galley. Just before pulling the door open, he remembered that he was supposed to give news to the kids who had been working with Sanji, so he made that one of his goals while there. Bungee found him first, as he came from the kitchen with serving plates. “Oh, good morning! Are you hungry? Breakfast will be up in a little bit.”

“Ah...” Zoro was, actually, and ravenously so, but one thing had to be said first. “He’s awake.”

Bungee lit up as though he’d just been told it was his birthday. “He is? Great! I’ll make sure to bring him something to eat, then. He’s probably really hungry if he’s been sleeping since he got hurt. I have to bring all the patients their breakfast anyway, I’ll get right on that!”

“Yeah...all right.”

“Sit down, I’ll bring you something.” Bungee waved him to the end of one of the long tables. Zoro went and sat, and didn’t have to wait at all – both kitchen assistants suddenly appeared at his elbows with all the food he could possibly want, sausage and biscuits and toast and hot tea. So much for “a little bit.” He sat alone and ate quickly, pounding down practically a double helping of everything as fast as Luffy would. By the time he finished and brought his plates to the kitchen, the mess was starting to fill with the regular crew and the two boys were busy getting their meal out. Without a word to anyone, Zoro drifted back out and started across the deck, thinking of nothing but heading back down to the infirmary for now.

Halfway across the ship, Zoro heard the captain’s gusty shout and stopped, knowing full well he was about to be accosted. Sure enough, Captain Egan came down from the bridge and stepped up to him, drawn up proudly to his full height. “Been looking for you,” he noted with a slightly more authoritative air than usual. “I take it you’ve been in the infirmary with your pal all night?”

Zoro simply raised an eyebrow, neither confirming nor denying it. “You want something, captain?”

“Just to say thanks.” The authority never left his demeanor, but Radolf’s face became subtly more humble. “You two were the difference between our lives and our senseless deaths. How’s the cook, is he awake yet?”

“Yeah. He’ll be fine.”

“Good, good. Yeah, doc said it wasn’t life-threatening unless something gets complicated, or something like that.” The captain folded his arms, looking off into the distance. “That was a hell of a thing you two did. Made me realize just how damn lucky we are.”

“Yeah?” Zoro cocked his head, beginning to smirk. “So refund us the money as a reward.”

Egan barked a short laugh. “That’s gutsy of you to even say, Roronoa! Forget it, I’m a merchant deep down and deals are deals. But you’re both off the hook for the rest of the journey – not that I’d make an injured man work in his condition, but Sanji doesn’t have to worry about the kitchen. I made Mac get back to work, and he somehow didn’t have a problem with that.”

Zoro’s eyes narrowed. “…you wouldn’t make an injured man work, huh?”

“That doesn’t count.” Radolf nodded proudly. “I don’t know how else to thank you two. So I’ll just say this.” His gaze suddenly hardened, all the authority returning in an instant. “I just got through to the Marines via den-den mushi. There’s a ship nearby that’ll rendezvous with us sometime today to take that other ship and the prisoners off our hands. I said nothing about having two other pirates aboard, from the infamous Straw Hat crew, and when they show up, I’m gonna make sure they don’t take you in.”

Zoro held his gaze for a long moment. “That’s as good as I can ask for, in these waters,” he said grimly.

“Believe me, I’d give you my private cabin for the rest of the trip if I could, but a captain has to be the face of his crew. I don’t know how long the Marines are going to hang around or if they’ll search the ship, so the least I can do is pull every string at my disposal to keep them from even realizing you’re aboard.”

Zoro nodded slowly in acceptance. In truth, it was extremely generous for a captain of this kind of ship, in this climate, immediately following some kind of major war at Marine headquarters, to bend over backwards to protect a couple of highly-wanted pirates, one of whom would likely die trying to fight off capture in his current state. Yet, one detail hadn’t escaped the swordsman’s notice. “What did you do with Steele’s head?” he asked cautiously.

Egan studied him for a moment, smiling keenly. “What, does the Pirate Hunter want another bounty for his collection?” he teased.

“I was the one who actually took that head,” Zoro pointed out, starting to become serious. His demeanor shifted, along with his body language – his arms fell to his sides, and his back straightened, while his eyes darkened with dread.

Captain Egan matched his stance, staring him down. “And don’t think we’re not grateful. But for you to keep that bounty, you’d have to risk your own. By rights it should be yours, but I want to see you try to take it.”

Zoro met his stare, and then the corner of his mouth turned up ever-so-slightly. “You’d make a good pirate, Captain Egan.”

Radolf heaved the tiniest chuckle. “So my pops often said. Lucky for both of us, the Marines have already settled this issue.” He tipped his head to one side, almost shrugging off the stalemate. “The ship coming to meet us doesn’t have anyone aboard with the authority or the bankroll to pay out that kind of bounty. It’s gotta come from the World Government, and with everything in chaos after the battle at Marineford, it’s likely we’re not gonna see that money for weeks. I’m gonna get a verification and an I.O.U., nothing more.”

Zoro sagged, all of the severity deflating out of him in an instant. “Aw, damn! I could have really used that money!”

“So could I!” Egan laughed. “I can arm this ship to the teeth with forty million, and I’m _going_ to when I eventually see it. But there’s no way you’re going to get very far with an I.O.U. that you can’t cash. Sorry, but that’s how it goes.”

“Yeah, that’s always how it goes with the Marines,” Zoro complained. “Dammit.”

“I know, I know.” The captain clapped him on the shoulder. “Seriously, if they’d had the money on them, or even when we landed at Nirva, I would’ve given you guys a cut of the bounty for saving our ship. All we can offer you is our protection right now and my word that when we get to Nirva Island, no one will say anything about having seen you at all. It may not sound like much, but when we get there, you’ll value that more than you know.”

Zoro eyed him doubtfully, but there was nothing he could do to argue. At that moment Bungee passed them with a tray of food for the patients below, so he shrugged it off and thumbed over his shoulder. “I’m heading back down. Tell me about the rest later, after this little Marine problem is taken care of.”

“Yeah, all right. I need to get me some breakfast anyway.” Captain Egan gave him a small, casual salute as he continued on toward the mess, leaving Zoro the freedom to go back to the infirmary.

When he ducked into the quiet, dim room, he found Sanji already sitting up in bed, carefully cradling the bowl of hot broth meant for him. In that light, he looked far more haggard and unwell than he had out in the morning shadows, perhaps because of the way he sat and slowly ate. Zoro went to his side and set the swords against the wall once more before sitting down, pulling the chair closer. “About time you showed up,” Sanji mumbled into his soup. “Just felt like wandering off?”

“I was hungry,” Zoro said simply. “You seem more than capable of taking care of yourself at the moment.” He looked around for the nurse, spotting her at the far end of the infirmary helping a much more seriously injured sailor get some food into him. Lowering his voice to a secretive hush, he leaned closer. “The Marines are coming.”

Sanji almost dropped the bowl. “Shit! Don’t d...” He started coughing again, so Zoro reached and grabbed the bowl out of his hands, letting him get past the brief fit and wince painfully at what it did to his chest before handing it back. “Don’t just surprise me with something like that,” Sanji wheezed. “The hell is that about?”

“I had to warn you,” Zoro replied, still keeping his voice down. “I just ran into the captain.” He quickly relayed the news, down to Egan’s promise to protect them. At least Sanji quieted once he heard the full story, and he went back to eating. Zoro shook his head. “We won’t even see a single beli of Steele’s bounty, either. Because of Marineford, the government won’t pay out bounties for weeks.”

“We don’t have weeks.” Sanji sighed. “Ah, shit. A bounty like that would have gotten us to Sabaody in no time flat. We could buy a small boat and an eternal post for that much.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Zoro sat back with his hands on his knees, taking up a first-mate’s authority for a moment. “We’ll keep going as we were. We still have enough to get by. We’ll get there. You just focus on healing up.”

Sanji nodded weakly and concentrated on eating, though he could only stomach a little more before he needed to put it aside and lie back down. Carrie came past to check on him, and didn’t seem pleased to see that he wasn’t interested in eating, but only drew the blankets up around him and warned both of them to keep him warm and let him rest. Once she was beyond earshot, Sanji raised his eyes to his comrade once more. “You don’t have to stay here.”

“What else am I going to do?” Zoro leaned forward, still speaking in that private tone. “I’ll leave when I feel like it.”

“Nnh...dumbass.” Sanji nestled down in the bedding, blinking drowsily. “Be that way, see if I care.”

“Did the kid come down and bother you?”

“Mhm.” Sanji smiled faintly. “It’s okay. I told him to bring me something better next time, screw the doctor’s orders.”

Zoro gazed at him and then sniffed, making the same face. “Go to sleep. I’m tired of hearing you talk.”

“Shut up...” But Sanji was already fast drifting toward sleep all on his own, he didn’t need to be ordered. Zoro sat with him, keeping his hands to himself but paying close attention to every little thing about him. That way, if anything changed for the worse, he would be the first to know.

The wind and the sea never cared about the tragedies of humankind, and went on being fair and bright even while the crew of the merchant ship mourned their dead – five total – and maintained their guard on the captive pirates being towed behind them. It wasn’t until far closer to the day’s end that the crow’s nest finally spotted the Marine ship on the horizon, giving them just a little bit of time to warn their passengers and make preparations. Every last person aboard was duly warned not to so much as hint that there might be two pirates aboard, under severe penalties from the captain himself, and anyone who couldn’t be trusted to keep their lips zipped was sent over to Steele’s ship to act as guard for the last shift. Egan briefed his officers and anyone who had close contact with the two Straw Hats personally, to ensure that no one was foolish enough to tell contradicting stories about who actually cut off Steele’s head and destroyed the devil-cannon. At last, around the dinner hour, they rendezvoused with the Marine warship, its bright white sails gleaming in the late-day sun. Captain Egan invited the lieutenant-commander in charge of the visiting ship to have dinner with him onboard the _Flying Serpent_ , where they could hash out all the details of the prisoner transfer, the verification of the bounty collected, and other sundry business. The lieutenant-commander agreed, but still indicated that he would like to send one of his sergeants around to make note of the casualties and take charge of the confiscated ammunition from Steele’s cannon. The merchant captain accepted that, hiding to himself the slight note of apprehension that anyone wandering around the ship could run into their passengers. But precautions had been taken, so he had to trust that they would be enough. He gave no sign of his inner thoughts as he clapped the Marine on the shoulder and showed him the way to the captain’s table.

The sergeant blundered around the ship from bow to stern taking care of the things they were there to do while his commanding officer enjoyed dinner and took care of the paperwork. Among his duties was a pass through the infirmary, so they could have records of the crewmen killed and injured in order to bring charges against the pirate crew. The old doctor gruffly repeated the captain’s report of five dead, ten seriously wounded, and uncounted minor injuries that had been treated and sent back to their posts. The sergeant made a note of it, glancing around at the beds filled with the injured even though the nurses eyeballed him from the corners of the room for making a ruckus and disturbing everyone’s rest. Fortunately, there was no way for the Marines to know whether any of the individuals in that room weren’t supposed to be there, they all simply looked like injured sailors. The sergeant shook his head at one poor bastard who had apparently gotten too close to the cannon and was badly burned, judging by the swath of bandages wrapped around his head so closely that all anyone could see was a peek of one closed eye and his mouth. The sailor sitting next to him had the hood of his jacket pulled up over his head, clearly in mourning. The sergeant stepped up next to the man in the chair and patted a heavy hand awkwardly on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, son. We Marines will make sure justice is served for your friend. Our best wishes for his recovery.”

The sailor only nodded, making no sound. He had to – if he so much as raised his head and showed a peek of green hair, Zoro could be found out. The sergeant trudged away, having made his inspection and needing to head to his next task. When the door closed behind him, Carrie let out a huge sigh of relief that her trick had worked. Sanji’s eye slitted open. “How long do I have to wear these damn bandages?” he hissed. “They’re constricting. And your damn swords are cold!”

In order to quickly hide the three swords, they had shoved them under the blanket next to Sanji’s body where they would never be spotted. Zoro glanced around even as Carrie sidled up to the bed with her hands demurely clasped in front of her. “It’s best to keep up the disguise until the Marine vessel sets sail,” she whispered. “That way we’ll know for sure that the coast is clear.”

Sanji groaned at that. Zoro nudged his arm. “Shut up. The captain’s taking a huge risk for our sakes, the least you can do is stop complaining.”

For a moment the cook was quiet, and then he murmured something in a far more serious tone. “It’s not that I’m not grateful. I am. Especially for Miss Carrie and her clever disguise.” His visible eye closed tiredly. Even if he couldn’t put his finger on it directly, he knew he was getting more irritable. After all, he hadn’t had a cigarette since dawn. “I just don’t like hiding.”

“Me neither,” Zoro grumbled, “but this time we have to. We’re not going to do anyone any good getting into a fight with the Marines on this ship.”

Sanji breathed a soft sigh, but said nothing further. He wouldn’t be able to jump up and fight like he wanted to, anyway, and like hell if he was going to let himself be hauled in by the Marines in this state, unable to defend himself. It would be shameful. He had no choice but to wait it out in the guise of a badly-burned patient whose identity was completely obscured.

The rest of the duties and tasks were completed well before the lieutenant-commander finished dinner with Captain Egan, so when that finally wrapped up just before sunset, and the two ship-captains shook hands to part ways, everyone was ready to see the Marines off. The pirate ship had been taken into custody, though it was now an empty hulk bearing only the confiscated monster-cannon. The Marine vessel’s brig was full to brimming with the prisoners instead. A handful of crew stood at the railing to watch the other ship set sail, as each had their own schedule to keep and could not sit and dawdle in the empty ocean. The _Flying Serpent_ raised sail as well, and in no time at all the two ships were mere dots in each other’s sights, passing into the coming night in either direction. The all-clear was sounded, and the infirmary staff gladly helped their saviors throw off their disguises and brought them a late dinner. Bungee was happy to be personally attending Sanji, though the pirate chef had no more stories to tell him nor advice to give – he simply wanted to eat and then be left alone without an audience. Zoro used the opportunity to step up onto the deck and have a look around, to stretch his legs and then wash up, but he came right back to the infirmary when he was done. By then, Sanji was full and rather awake, and mostly alone, since the nurses had left him and the rest of the patients were sleeping or not much use for conversation. He raised an eye toward the noise of his comrade entering, and gave him a beseeching look that could only mean one thing. Sighing, Zoro came to the bed and pulled the cook’s shoes out from underneath it, offering them and his shoulder.

The bathroom was once again a necessary stop, but Sanji was clearly intent on his final goal. Now that the pirate ship had been taken into Marine possession, there was no chance of any kind of audience catching them out on the rear deck. After being in bed all day, napping on and off, Sanji was starting to feel more alert and strong enough to stand on his own, though he didn’t protest any guiding hand from his crewmate. For his part, Zoro got him out there and then let him be, going to the railing and peering down into the depths of the ocean gliding by underneath the deck while Sanji lit his cigarette and breathed deeply to calm himself. A long, comfortable silence stretched between them, in which both gradually turned their attention from whatever else they were doing to the sun sinking down into the rim of the watery world behind and to the side of the ship. Sanji straightened up a little, and then wobbled on his feet, his hand going to his head as if to hold it still. Zoro sidled up to him instantly, but he waved him off. “I’m fine,” he insisted. “Just a little spell.”

“Uh huh, right.” The swordsman wrapped an arm across his front, giving him something to lean on. “Save the tough guy act for someone who’ll fall for it. If you need to sit down, then sit, dumbass.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Yet, Sanji turned slowly and made his way along the railing to the wall formed by the aft of the ship, where he slumped and slid down to a seat. He had finally been able to button up his shirt to hide the bandages, so he looked more or less normal there, but the slight pallor to his face and twinge of a grimace as he settled with his back against the wall showed that he was still not completely back to normal. All of the crew were fast healers, usually, but restoring the blood lost still took time and rest no matter how eager he was to be on his feet and back in the kitchen by now. Zoro stood back and gave him a moment to settle himself, and then went to him and sat down beside him, taking out his swords and leaning them against the wall on his other side first. Shoulder to shoulder, knees drawn up, they sat together for a while in comfortable silence while Sanji smoked. The sun slipped beneath the waters and the western sky dimmed into a diffuse golden glow in the meantime, and after a while, a bright white star could be seen low in the sky, also setting. About then, Zoro felt the warm, solid form next to him slump against his shoulder, and glanced to see Sanji leaning on him, tilting his head to rest against his comrade’s. He took the remnants of the cigarette from his lips and stabbed it out on the deck, breathing out one last long gust of smoke as a gesture of finality. Zoro stretched his legs out and sat back to make it easier for Sanji to lean against him, inching his hand over to brush against Sanji’s thigh. The cook gave a soft sigh; his eyes were hidden from Zoro by the tilt of his head and the sheaf of his blond hair, but he could see the tip of his nose and sullen lips. “How much longer do you think I can keep them from finding me and dragging me back to bed?” he murmured.

Zoro let a tiny smirk touch his lips. “I would’ve thought you’d be eager to get back in there with those nurses,” he teased dryly.

Like him, Sanji unfolded his legs and stretched them out, grunting a bit at the subtle aches. He slumped fully against Zoro’s side and let his hand fall so that the back of it touched his companion’s. “Oh, Miss Carrie is cute, no doubt about that,” he said quietly, with a trace of his usual lilt. “The other one, I’m not so sure about.”

“The blond girl reminds me of Usopp’s friend from his home island,” Zoro mused. “The one who gave us Merry. Good thing you weren’t with us, then.” He turned his head slightly so he could glance down at Sanji’s figure sprawled comfortably against him. “You’d have flirted with her and pissed off Usopp.”

“What’s so bad about that?” Sanji’s chuckle was faint and tired. He nestled his head more comfortably in the crook of Zoro’s neck. “I hate infirmaries. All those sick and injured people.”

“Hate to break it to you, but you’re one of ‘em.” Zoro moved his hand, if only to slide it over and squeeze Sanji’s knee. “I don’t blame you, though.”

“I wish I could sleep in a normal bunk.” Not that the bed wasn’t comfortable, Sanji simply didn’t like being confined to the infirmary under so many watchful eyes. Sure, he had been injured, but he wasn’t dead. His hand shifted as well, draping over Zoro’s thigh and resting there. “I’m not going in until someone makes me.”

“Even if that someone is me?” Zoro tilted his head back against the wall, raising his eyes to the sky. Twilight-blue was beginning to steal over the sky, turning the rose and gold translucent, almost white at the zenith. Night would be on them soon, he could smell it on the air. The ship’s motion had slowed considerably, it wouldn’t be long now until the sails were trimmed for the night’s drifting. A moment or two later and he realized he was absently stroking his fingertips along Sanji’s knee. It felt nice. Anyone else he might have turned, caught up his partner in his arms, and kissed him senseless, but this was Zoro. He was content with that tiny expression and nothing more. Sanji seemed to share that feeling, for he remained in that position and didn’t make any move to get away. They stayed there like that until darkness had fully seeped over the sky and chased the last of the day’s light to a tiny, pale sliver of the western horizon. By then, Sanji was shivering a little, so Zoro rapped his knuckles against that outstretched leg and shifted as if to get up. “Come on. Before somebody freaks out and thinks the Marines got us.”

Sanji groaned in protest, but went along, sitting up and ruffling a hand through his hair. His comrade got up first and then hauled him up after him, giving them the briefest moment in which they stood facing one another, close as lovers. Sanji’s visible eye darted to Zoro’s face and then downward in embarrassment, though he set a hand on Zoro’s shoulder to steady himself and prepare to be escorted back. Zoro did not press closer, but his hand threaded up into Sanji’s hair in a single caress before he turned and shouldered his injured friend’s weight. It was dark enough now that they could only really see the glint of each others’ eyes, but they could find their way by touch, scent, and sense just fine.

The infirmary staff was not exactly freaking out, but they did descend upon the pirates as soon as they stumbled in the door. Carrie fussed, Noel stared at them, but the worst was the doctor himself, who glared in a disapproving manner at Sanji where he stood with one hand on Zoro’s shoulder for support and then pointed to his infirmary bed. First, though, he needed to put his patient through a thorough checkup, to see for himself how the wound was healing, an ordeal that hurt more than Sanji expected as he was made to lie down and strip off his shirt. To his chagrin, it was the old doctor and not the cute nurse who attended him, which he considered payback enough for having snuck out of the infirmary. His bandages were pulled off so a proper inspection could be made with much poking and prodding, peering and checking. Zoro stood back with his arms folded, vaguely amused by this torture. Noel peered out from behind him. “And just where did you go?” she wondered, not harshly, but still oddly calm and stern.

“Needed a breath of fresh air,” Sanji replied gruffly, wincing at the hard, nubby fingers inspecting the stitches in his chest. The doctor seemed to know what he had gone out for, but didn’t scold him for it no matter how much he scowled about the rest. Not too long after, he re-wrapped his patient in fresh bandages and allowed him to dress and rest, stumping off to the other room of the infirmary. After all, he had taken care of all the other patients while the crew was searching the ship for the missing pirates – Sanji was the last on his rounds. The cook spat a few curses under his breath as he stretched back out in bed, not sure if he was tired but definitely not in the mood to be social anymore. Carrie came to his side, fluffed his pillows and made sure he had everything he needed, instantly soothing his nerves and making up for the doctor’s lack of gentleness. Zoro harrumphed and then tossed his head. “I’m going to bed,” he announced. “Stay out of trouble, would you?”

Sanji glanced up at him, concealing his reaction. He was actually glad that the swordsman was going to go sleep in his normal bunk – it meant that he himself was out of the woods. He covered it by closing his eyes and pretending not to care. “Good. It’s about time I got you out of my hair. Go on, so I can have a few minutes alone with Miss Carrie.”

“Tch...” Zoro made an obvious show of rolling his eyes as he turned to grab his swords from where they rested against the wall, and headed out without any further word or glance to his comrade. Sanji hadn’t meant to offend him, but it was too late to take it back. Carrie only lingered a moment longer anyway, just enough to tell him that Noel was on duty again overnight if he needed anything, and wish him a restful sleep. All Sanji could do was sigh and close his eyes again, and think about actually sleeping. Zoro was not actually hurt by the exchange, though. He shrugged it off easily, chalking it up to Sanji’s nature and knowing he didn’t mean anything by it. He prowled down the corridor to the crew cabin on the end, and managed to select the right one on the first try. Their bunks sat unused, their bag still splayed on the lower one from when he had ransacked it looking for fresh clothes in the middle of the night. Ignoring all the sailors already abed or getting there, the swordsman silently worked to stuff everything back in the bag, checking for their concealed cash in the process, and then tumbled into bed fully clothed. He slept soundly, now that he was certain his crewmate was in the clear and on the whole they were safe. It eased his mind enough to let him crash and sleep off his exhaustion completely.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> another landfall on another island, and a new group of pirates to deal with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the author has gotten even more lazy than just borrowing names, and is now borrowing characters wholesale from Suikoden IV: the characters of Kika, Sigurd, Hervey, and Dario, the _Grishend_ , and Nirva Island are directly borrowed. Kika and her pirates are not mine and not Oda's, yet this is not a crossover with Suikoden. They're only making a little cameo for a couple chapters.

Well after sunrise, he finally pried himself out of the bunk and sat rubbing his face, giving himself time to fully wake up before thoughts began to percolate and suggest he ought to decide what to do. The previous morning, he had to help Sanji with certain things. He was also hungry. And the ship was probably underway again, it would be nice to find out the estimations on whether they’d make Nirva Island by the end of today. Zoro scratched all over and yawned and finally dragged his boots over so he could get moving, figuring he’d see if breakfast was ready yet before going down to check on his crewmate. He didn’t get far. As he stepped out onto the main deck, Zoro found Sanji sitting on a barrel near the door, arms wrapped around himself and a cigarette dangling from his lips. He glanced aside at the creak of the door and his eyebrow twitched in interest at what he saw. Zoro paused and stared back. “What are you doing up?”

“Smoke break,” Sanji murmured.

“You’re not hiding this time.”

“Nah.” The cook took his cigarette between slender fingers and exhaled deeply. “Doc already knew I was going against orders. He said as long as I knew that it could kill me, I was free to do whatever I pleased.”

“Does that include leaving the infirmary?”

Sanji smirked to himself. “You’re sharp this morning.”

“Yeah, well...I slept good.” Zoro tossed his head in the direction of the bow. “You eaten yet?”

Sanji followed his gaze to the rooms of the forecastle where the mess was certainly full of eager, hungry sailors by now. “No, not yet.”

Zoro looked at him for a long moment, and then smirked privately to himself. “You can’t get that far without help, huh?”

“Tch...” Sanji looked away so that his hair hid his eyes, his lips twisting in a scowl. It was true, but he wasn’t going to admit it.

His crewmate sniffed a self-satisfied little chuckle, and then turned to present his shoulder. “I’m headed that way. You can sit here and sulk if you want, or you can join me.”

After a moment, Sanji slid off the barrel and extended a hand, setting it on Zoro’s shoulder to stabilize himself. When he felt the touch, Zoro started off across the deck, moving at a slower pace than usual but still confidently and without any sort of heed for whether anyone saw them. Sanji kept up with him, his steps even and his breathing quiet. He was favoring his right arm, still, keeping it close to his side, but he had regained enough strength to walk with only minimal support. The only strange part about it was being greeted by sailors they passed as though they were part of the crew, further proof that the men of the _Flying Serpent_ really did owe these two pirates their lives and were grateful for it. Bungee was so happy to see the temporary cook on his feet that he personally served them both breakfast, and hovered around them to make sure they got their fill. Sanji was content to linger over hot tea while Zoro stuffed his face, though the eager attention from both kitchen attendants was making him tired all over again. Captain Egan came to where they sat and chatted with them for a bit, finally filling them both in on any details of the last couple of days that they had missed for being in the infirmary. When they finally finished and Zoro was ready to escort his crewmate back, Sanji leaned in close to him. “I’m going to take a nap,” he murmured. “In the cabin, not that sickbed.”

“All right.” Zoro led him there, and when they got to the crew cabin, made him lay down on the lower bunk where he had slept. There was no reason to climb up to the top one, he suggested, since he was wide awake and going to go do some more training. The cabin was empty but for them, as all those who bunked there were on the day shift for sailing. Sanji sighed and relented, his hand heavy on Zoro’s shoulder for a moment longer before he wilted and slid down to a seat on the edge of the bunk. He kicked off his shoes and flopped onto his left side on the bed, and was asleep in minutes. Zoro stood there making sure he slept, leaning on the bunks, gazing solemnly down at the cook’s limp figure. He tested just how soundly Sanji slept by bending down and brushing his hair out of his face. When he didn’t twitch, Zoro straightened up, satisfied, and left the cabin without a sound.

There was no more excitement to be had on the remainder of the journey to Nirva Island. The attack by Steele’s pirates and the visit from the Marines had put them off schedule by more than a day, but a good strong tailwind would make sure the _Flying Serpent_ reached its destination by sunset of that day. Captain Egan was only slightly disgruntled to be off-schedule, but considering he was alive and sailing instead of on the bottom of the ocean, it was a minor annoyance he could deal with. He watched Zoro train on the main deck below and wondered at his luck, having these two ridiculously powerful pirates on board just when Steele’s flagship finally crossed paths with his. He almost wished he could do more to thank them, but he had done enough already. If any of his sailors got excited and blabbed about harboring two wanted men, hiding them from the Marines even, things would not go well for the Obel Maritime Trading company. Meanwhile, Sanji spent most of the day sleeping, but crawled out sometime mid-afternoon to sit in the sunshine on deck, smoke, and watch the rolling waves pass them by. He had pulled a sweatshirt out of the pack and was wearing it over his dress shirt, not used to feeling cold – but that was the consequence of his blood loss. The sun felt good on his face, and it was a pleasure to breathe the salt wind instead of the stuffy air of the closed-off infirmary. Nobody bothered him, not even Zoro, who was off on another section of the deck doing one-handed pushups at the moment. It gave Sanji the benefit of an hour or two of interrupted thinking time, though he didn’t really think about the sorts of things an average man in his situation might think. He still considered himself strong enough to endure all battles, so his brush with mortality didn’t bother him in the least. He had long ago chosen to accept the possibility that he could die at any time, as a real pirate ought to, so it didn’t scare him at all. It was a bit stupid that he just got shot, a stroke of bad luck and nothing more, but he still shrugged it off and didn’t spare a thought for it. He didn’t think about things with Zoro, either – there was no reason to. It would just be, when they had time for it, when they wanted it, and when they didn’t, why bother mulling it over? It was wasted time. Instead, Sanji thought about the progress of their journey, what sorts of strategies to take to find a ship heading for Sabaody much more quickly on Nirva, whether their money could get them there faster. But from the captain’s talk earlier in the day, he expected they would make landfall too late to hop another ship right away, and so some of that money would have to go to another hotel. It wasn’t such a bad thought, actually, he was sort of looking forward to a private place to rest. He hated being weaker than normal, and was annoyed with the time it took to heal up enough to feel like he could take on the world again, but a well-cooked meal and a comfy bed might soothe his irritation. He enjoyed two cigarettes while he sat there and thought, and by that time, the mess was calling people to dinner. There would be one more meal served aboard ship before they could make port. Sanji only felt the tiniest bit of regret that he wasn’t the one cooking it, but really, he had paid his dues. He and Mac were in the same position anyway, as Sanji found it somewhat painful to put too much stress on his right arm yet. Funny, how the muscles connected, from the chest to the shoulder to the very tips of his fingers. But he could sit and smoke, and that felt just fine. He only got up to go have something to eat when Zoro came by and prodded him out of his comfortable perch.

As the sun sank low in the sky, yet again turning the ocean to brass around them and the sky to gold, the crow’s nest called out the first sighting of land. Nirva Island was dead ahead, a low mass of gray and black in the water with no interesting discernable features to be made out at this distance. The crew came alive to prepare for landing, hurrying to and fro across the deck and in the rigging. Sanji quietly disappeared into the crew cabin to pack their things, but before he could lug them out, Zoro joined him and took the bags under control himself. “We should probably get ready to slip off the ship as soon as they tie up at the quay,” he murmured. “Keep the attention off the captain and suspicions low.”

“We’ll be fine as long as there are no Marines docked at the same place,” Sanji assured. “All the same, beating a hasty retreat isn’t a bad idea.”

“I’m hungry again,” Zoro noted. “We should look for someplace to eat.”

“We need to find a hotel first,” his comrade argued. “Food can come later. You’re not Luffy, you’ll live five more minutes until we can take care of that.”

Zoro grumbled, but he didn’t protest further than that. Sanji was right, after all. They were getting to land late, they’d be lucky if there was still an inn or boarding house with a room free for the night. He heaved the over-stuffed duffel over his shoulder and strode out, not waiting for Sanji to follow with the smaller backpack. They stayed out of everyone’s way, since the crew was capable and didn’t need any extra hands to do their jobs, not even after losing some in the attack. They couldn’t escape Radolf Egan’s watch, though. He came up to them even while the _Flying Serpent_ was maneuvering into position alongside the stone pier that jutted out into the water. “Well,” he said with some finality, “I can’t say it’s been real fun, but...bah, you know. No sense making any speeches or anything.”

Sanji lit another cigarette while he stood there. “Don’t feel you have to be polite on our account, captain. What’s done is done.”

“At least it made things interesting,” Zoro added.

“Sorry about that bounty,” Egan chuckled. 

“Eh...” The swordsman shrugged aloofly. “I don’t do that anymore anyway. It doesn’t matter.”

“Good luck getting back to your crew.” Captain Egan extended a hand; Sanji shook it, not wincing at all at the strong grip, but Zoro only tipped his head in an acknowledging nod. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a cargo manifest to look over. I think a few kilos of kitchen supplies might have to get unloaded first.”

He blustered away, leaving Zoro to raise his eyebrow in Sanji’s direction. The cook shook his head. “Tell you later.”

 

Nirva Island was really nothing all that impressive to look at. Its proudest feature was a lighthouse standing out at the tip of an arm of a reef that stretched south and east off one side of the island, but it was just a teeny little structure and didn’t even need to be lit on a calm, cool night like tonight. The two pirates slipped off the _Flying Serpent_ without any fanfare, not even saying farewell to the others who had helped them. There wasn’t much need; they both appreciated all the aid given, and the attempts at being friendly, but in the end, they needed to go their separate ways for the safety of both crew and wanted men. They had made their peace earlier in the day anyway, Sanji had wished the kitchen assistants well the last time he saw them just after dinner . The sun had set and streetlamps were lit by the time they walked along the promenades looking for a hotel, Zoro toting the duffel and Sanji carrying the backpack slung over his left shoulder. They didn’t stand out from any other travelers going to and fro on the island’s quiet streets, and had no trouble locating a small inn that definitely had a room open for them. Unlike Esme, this place wasn’t exactly bustling and there was plenty of hospitality to be had. It was no luxury resort with its own private bath, but it would do. The desk attendant happily told them the kitchen was still open if they wanted come downstairs to the inn’s parlor which doubled as a tavern, and that was enough to sell them on crashing there for the night. Sanji was doing his best to cover up any signs of fatigue, so Zoro let him and agreed that they should go down and have a snack and some drinks before calling it a night. Alas for them, “tavern” was something of a misnomer, as it wasn’t at all like a couple of pirates would have expected out of a drinking establishment. Far too family-friendly, really. But it was lively enough for an evening like this, even if everyone was far too cheerful and benign. Sanji sampled a dessert for his own curiosity’s sake, while Zoro slapped down as much beli as he had in his pocket for the booze to keep coming. Still, they didn’t linger all night, and managed to slip out almost unnoticed after each man had had his fill of whatever he had come for. Sanji was still murmuring approval of the strawberry-topped cake as he followed Zoro back upstairs to their room, even though he was sure he was being ignored. That was fine, he was lost in his own thoughts as well, wondering if this might be a summer island if the strawberry crop was so good and fresh at this time of year. He finished off his cigarette and paused at their door to grind it out and stow the butt, which took just as long as it took Zoro to unlock the door and let them in. Sanji brought up the rear in order to bolt the door behind him, and then looked around the little room with a bit of a sigh.

Zoro glanced at him even as he went to the beds and pulled the swords from their strap on his hip, intending to find them a place to rest where he could reach them no matter where he slept. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. Just tired.” Sanji prowled to the bed where he had dropped the backpack and fished out some of the spare medical supplies the nurses had given him. “Looks like it’s going to be your turn to play bandage-tender for a few days.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Zoro appeared suddenly at his elbow and reached to take the roll of bandages from him. “You want to get that taken care of, then?”

“I didn’t take these out to juggle them,” the cook retorted. He only got a narrow-eyed look in return, and decided not to quibble. It took some effort to pull the sweatshirt over his head with his right side feeling stiff and abused, but Zoro wisely did not move in to help him – that sort of thing would have only pissed him off. It was much easier to unbutton his undershirt, and then Sanji sat on the bed to have the wrapping around his chest removed and replaced with fresh ones. He draped his arm over Zoro’s shoulders to keep it out of the way, no longer concerned about the least tactile contact between them. At least Zoro worked quickly, covering, wrapping, and tying off the bandage to keep the stitched wound clean and protected. He was thanked with a little tousle of his hair and nothing more as Sanji moved to pull the sweatshirt back on, intending to sleep in it.

Zoro remained sitting beside him, withdrawing his hands into his lap. “That doctor must be pretty good. Those stitches are so tiny you’re not going to have a scar.”

“Good,” Sanji murmured. “I know some ladies like manly scars and all, but that’s a shitty place to have one.”

Zoro eyed him. “You mean like right where I have one?”

“Yours is different.” Sanji eyed him aloofly back. “Very manly.”

“Shut up.” But there was no venom in Zoro’s retort. He hesitated a moment and then leaned over to attempt to kiss his comrade. Sanji nearly met it, but at the last moment he turned his head and let it graze his jaw instead. Zoro gave a stifled moan of protest. “C’mon...”

“You’re like a dog with a bone,” Sanji complained. “The minute we’re alone again, you’re back at it.”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.” Yet, Zoro gave him his space, sitting back on his hands. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe now that I’ve got a taste, I keep wanting it whenever I can get it.”

Sanji smirked a bit to himself, taking it as flattery this time. “You’d better not push your luck. I’m still injured. The idea of you accidentally ripping my stitches for the sake of a little fun isn’t exactly appealing, you know.”

“I’d be gentle,” Zoro pouted.

“What if I didn’t want you to be?” Sanji hesitated the moment the words were out of his mouth, and then slowly turned to look at his comrade. Zoro stared back, equally confused, but then a smirk slowly began to spread across his face. Sanji immediately shook his head. “Don’t give me that look. I’m _tired_. And still sore. And you’re not on the list of people I’ll let touch me when I’m tired and sore.”

“Fine,” Zoro groused. He knew better than to beg, and he didn’t need to, anyway. “Maybe we should put you to bed, then. And tuck you in, eh princess?”

Sanji immediately shot him a glare. “Piss off, seaweed head, just because I won’t give you what you want this time doesn’t mean you have to be an ass about it.”

“I’m getting a little tired of this only being on your terms.” Zoro sat up and leaned in close again, though it was just to give Sanji a look. “I know you’re injured, you don’t have to throw it around as an excuse. I wasn’t gonna push it that far anyway, just…” His dark eyes lowered, as if tracing their way to his companion’s lips.

Sanji noticed. “Oh?” he said, more quietly. “You want to take it easy?”

“Unless you get me all worked up.” Zoro’s sly grin returned as he held position where he was. “Then you might have to take care of it.”

The grin was returned with an identical one, even as Sanji tilted his head slightly. Really, there was a fine line between flirting and fighting between them – all it took was a smart remark instead of an argument to push it one way instead of the other. “We both know how good I am, so maybe it’s safer to not get started. Or else it’ll have to finish that way, guaranteed.”

“You wish.” The smirk remained, keeping things firmly in the realm of flirting. “Maybe I’m just not interested anymore. Maybe I’ll just go to bed, too.”

“You’re such a liar.” Sanji reached up and found himself tugging gently on one of the earrings. “Either way you’re going to be sleeping alone. These beds aren’t big enough.”

“Oi, don’t play with that.” Zoro fended him off with the slightest brush of his hand. “I don’t care. I wasn’t talking about sleeping, anyway.”

“You need to learn to pace yourself.” Sanji sat back to get himself out of range, rubbing gingerly across the spot on his chest that hurt the most. “I know you haven’t really been using your libido up till now, so it’s probably eager to get some exercise, but there’s more important things to worry about.”

“What...” The swordsman chuckled knowingly under his breath. “You feeling guilty that you’re laying around having sex at a time like this?” He sobered instantly, however. “There’s nothing we can do. We can’t go any further tonight. Sitting here fretting isn’t going to do any good, we may as well relax, and get back to business in the morning.”

It wasn’t often that Zoro had his logic so right on the money. Sanji shrugged it off and rubbed his face tiredly. “Maybe. I don’t know if I like your definition of relaxing, though.”

“You didn’t have a problem with it any of the other nights...”

“That was then, this is now.”

“Uh huh.” Zoro’s tone implied that he wasn’t falling for any of this bullshit.

Sanji eyed him suspiciously. “What do you want, then? I’d prefer you leave me alone so I can sleep.”

Zoro’s eyebrow twitched briefly, but he resolved not to give in this time. He curled one hand around Sanji’s scruffy chin and stroked his thumb across the cook’s lips. “Just a little of this,” he murmured huskily. “You’re not too sore for that, are you?”

Sanji’s gaze dropped, and despite his best efforts to quell it a blush stole across his cheeks. “I should hope not,” he answered after a moment. This time, he didn’t pull away when Zoro leaned in to kiss him, and accepted it without complaint. They sat and traded kisses for a time, not really pursuing them aggressively for once, enjoying the sensations, the touch of fingertips on faces and necks, the wetness of lips, the warmth and taste of breath. After a while, Zoro dared to make a move of sorts, shifting his hand to the cook’s waist and pushing gently to get him to lie down. Sanji was just tired enough to go along with it, wilting back onto the bed with a sigh. His comrade came after him, leaning over him and favoring him with a few more long, deep kisses that were enough to spread the blush from Sanji’s face to his neck and ears. They could have kept it up for a long time, but eventually Zoro drew back and breathed deeply, as if to savor whatever he got out of the interaction. He started to sit up, but Sanji’s hand came to rest against his face and pulled him back for the moment. Their eyes met, but no words followed. 

After the briefest pause, Zoro straightened up and pushed himself off the bed. “Get some rest,” he said in a low, rumbly tone. “There’s no telling what tomorrow will be like.”

Sanji watched him as he stood and stretched, keeping his back to the occupied bed. Something had definitely passed between them in that silence, but he had no intention of calling attention to it, either. He was just as eager as Zoro to pretend it hadn’t happened, to leave it be. After all, he hadn’t said a word about his crewmate’s insistence at staying by his side in the infirmary, nor did he make note of the gentle comfort given over the past few days. Surely, he noticed, and surely Zoro knew he did. They never said anything to each other about it, either to accept or discourage the connection. Each simply let it be, in his own way. Sanji caught his breath, and then wrestled the blankets out from beneath him in order to wrap himself up in them. The movement made Zoro glance over his shoulder, and the briefest happy look passed through his eyes before he faced forward and went to douse the lights. He hesitated long enough to listen in the darkness, and knew from the soft, even tone that his comrade had already fallen asleep. It meant that he was safe to climb into the other bed and roll over to sleep as well.

Both pirates slept rather late compared to their usual habit, but not so late as to miss a quick breakfast downstairs in the parlor before checking out of the inn and going on their way. Sanji no longer needed support to get around, and even bit down any discomfort in his chest and arm at getting dressed or carrying the bag, yet Zoro diligently picked up the larger duffel and wouldn’t take any argument over who should be carrying what weight. They first headed back through the harbor to have a look at all the other ships and ask around about transport, but it seemed no one could really tell them whether any of the vessels docked at Nirva were headed toward Sabaody. The harbormaster was clueless, and more than one sailor shrugged and told the two strangers to ask the harbormaster. The _Flying Serpent_ was still at port, but the crew was busy loading and unloading cargo, while the two pirates knew better than to bring attention to the captain who had protected their identities from the Marines. They went past as if they had never seen that ship before, and no one said a word to them. After a bit more searching and waiting for people to return to their ships and answer the crucial question, they decided to make a circuit of the whole island and check the other quays. There was more than one place to tie up a ship, naturally, but the main harbor had the most traffic and the largest ships from the sorts of merchant lines that were most likely to come and go from exotic islands. It took the better part of the day to make this walk, and investigate, by which time both Sanji and Zoro were annoyed, hungry, and thirsty. The only solution to this, of course, was to find the nearest tavern or restaurant and blow a lot of beli on something really good.

It was still early by most accounts, before the dinner hour even, but it was a good opportunity to take a break. One of the other quays on the north side of the island clearly saw the most pirate traffic, judging by the number of bars and other establishments catering more to the needs of the wanted and the unsavory. They might not have been able to book passage on a legitimate passenger or merchant ship there, but two pirates such as they could find a lot more in a neighborhood like this, from good booze to the kind of information no tourist bureau could ever dish. Sanji chose the establishment, having a good eye and nose for where to get the best food, but Zoro went ahead of him and plunked down on a stool at the bar to order drinks first. The cook slid onto the seat next to him, and for a while they simply sat and ate and drank, contenting themselves with a snack of sorts and a bottle of whiskey to be split between them. They might have looked like they had no other cares in the world, but in fact, they were both keenly listening to the chatter going on around them. The bartender was of the boisterous and friendly ilk, calling out to familiar patrons as they entered and taking orders shouted across the bar, but not even his noise could mask the varied threads of discussions going on all around the place, news being shared and speculations being made about everything from the weather to the movements of the Marines in the area. Try as they might, neither of them caught any word of the doings at Marineford being discussed anywhere within earshot. Perhaps it was old news, by now. Sanji and Zoro said little to each other while they sat and savored their drinks, with their bags stowed safely under the lip of the bar at their feet. They didn’t need to, it was more important to listen and learn, and there wasn’t much they needed to talk about amongst themselves anyway. Sanji privately welcomed the chance to sit and rest for a while – not that he wanted to admit to being sore and tired, still, but the tightness in his chest was making it uncomfortable to keep up all the walking and standing and toting for long periods. Sitting and drinking and having a sandwich was fine by him for now, it was a good break.

As they lingered over the whiskey, Zoro pounding down twice that of his comrade, someone came up alongside Sanji’s right elbow, speaking loudly. “Hey, hey! Bartender! Another round for our table, would you?”

“All right, all right, keep your neckerchief on,” the bartender said, turning around. “I meant it, though, you gotta pay up front. I’m not running a tab for you guys this time.”

“Yeah, yeah, Lady Kika knows that,” the young man assured, plopping a handful of beli down on the bar. “It’s all good! See?”

The bartender swept up the money and counted it before waving off the younger man. “It’ll be there in a minute. Geez, you pirates are so impatient. It’s ‘booze, now!’ or nothin’.”

The stranger, who was actually wearing a neckerchief, laughed brashly. “You’re not complaining, are you? If not for us, where would your business be?”

The bartender eyed him and then burst out laughing, which got his patron laughing even more. It was some kind of inside joke, evidently. Sanji didn’t appreciate the noise in his ear, so he turned his head slowly and raised his curly eyebrow at the other man. “Bartender,” he said casually, “maybe you should hurry up with those drinks just to put something in this one’s mouth to plug up the noise.”

The man whipped his head toward Sanji and bristled. Around the same age as him and Zoro, he had tousled brown hair and a scar under his eye about where Luffy’s was. “Hey! Who the hell do you think you are? No, no, do you have any idea who I am?”

An unimpressed look remained on Sanji’s face. “Nope.”

The youngster gestured proudly to himself with a thumb. “You’re looking at the famous pirate Hervey! Hervey the Furious! I bet you’ve heard of me _now_ , haven’t you?”

The expression did not change one twitch. “...nope.”

Hervey reacted exactly as Sanji might have predicted; he was more hot-headed than Zoro, judging by the minor tantrum thrown in the next instant. As long as he didn’t throw any punches or draw the short sword at his side, neither Straw Hat saw any reason to react to his flailing and yelling. Then, a woman’s voice spoke from somewhere behind them, low and soft but with enough authority to shut Hervey up in an instant. “Calm yourself, Hervey. That’s an order.”

Sanji’s head came up quickly in interest, and twisted around to find the speaker. Over in the corner there was a round table currently being occupied by a number of pirates, among them the owner of the stern alto voice that had captured the cook’s attention. She was as beautiful as any pirate queen on the four seas, but sat back with an air of aloof wisdom that the others lacked, with long auburn hair and a red, epaulet-adorned jacket cut off above the waist. Her chin rested on a fist, and her eyes were definitely focused on the men seated at the bar rather than her subordinate. For his part, Hervey wilted and sighed as the tray of drinks was set on the bar next to him. “Aww, sorry Lady Kika, but these guys just got me all riled up!”

“Just bring the drinks, Hervey,” one of the other pirates implored.

“Shut up, Sigurd! I’m not your waiter!” Nevertheless, he did so anyway, probably because he wanted his choice of tankard before the others got their hands on them.

Lady Kika’s eyes were still on the two seated at the bar, both of whom were now looking over their shoulders at her table and the ruckus. Zoro looked disgruntled at having been blamed for provoking the other pirate, but Sanji was alight with a suave grin. Before he could say anything, Kika spoke up again. “You’re lucky you didn’t start anything with those two, Hervey,” she said coolly with a slight note of amusement. “They’re no one to be trifled with.”

Both Sanji and Zoro raised eyebrows at that. “You have me at a disadvantage, my lady,” the cook said as charmingly as he could, swiveling in his seat in order to rest his elbows on the bar and look as appealing as possible. “But I’m willing to overlook it if you’ll just do me the pleasure of letting me buy you a drink…”

Zoro snorted. Kika did as well, taking up one of the tankards her subordinate set on the table. “No thank you,” she said bluntly. “I buy my own drinks.”

Hervey looked rather pleased at the retort, and the momentary disappointment on Sanji’s face. But Kika’s eyes were mostly on the swordsman at his side, and after a minute, Zoro noticed. “Something interesting?” he wondered aloud.

“Very,” Kika replied smoothly. “The rumors had it that Straw Hat Luffy was last seen at Marineford. Curious, that two of his men are so far from his location…unless those rumors were false.”

Both Zoro and Sanji let the friendly looks slide off their faces. Zoro even sat up and turned, setting a hand on the hilt of Wadou Ichimonji at his side. None of the pirates around the table moved into confrontational stances, though, and Kika simply sat there with her legs elegantly crossed, drinking from her tankard like any of the men. Not many people in the bar had heard her mention a supposedly famous pirate, but enough did – including the bartender – that a bubble of quiet hushed around them. After a moment’s appraisal of the situation, Zoro murmured, “What do you know about Luffy?”

Kika’s smile turned cat-like. “So, it is you, then. Roronoa Zoro. That would make him Black Leg Sanji, hmm?”

“Who the hell are they?” Hervey demanded to know, clearly not impressed by the names.

The man beside him who he had called Sigurd sat straight in his chair with an almost military air. “Pirate Hunter Zoro and Black Leg Sanji are two members of the Straw Hat pirate crew, the only crew at present to have every single member carry a bounty.” His dark eyes flicked to Hervey, who sat gazing stupidly at him with his mouth hanging open. “Roronoa’s bounty is over a hundred million.”

“Holy shit!”

“Wow, Sigurd, how do you know so much?” one of the other pirates burst out. “Been studying wanted posters or something?”

“That’s why he’s first mate, and not you, Dario,” Kika said with that same calm, smooth, yet indifferent air, “even though you have seniority.” She kept returning her gaze to the two pirates, mostly Zoro, in between remarks to her crew. “Sigurd keeps me informed of who the World Government considers a real threat. It makes for interesting conversation over drinks.” She straightened up, then, and gestured to a couple of the empty chairs at her table. “Won’t you boys join me?”

As much as he wanted to jump right up and obey, Sanji gave his crewmate a consulting look. Zoro raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t protest. At the same time, both slid off their bar stools, collected their bags, and crossed to the pirates’ table. Sanji sat down, but Zoro remained standing beside him for a moment longer, carrying his glass and the bottle of whiskey. “This isn’t about being friendly, is it?” he said warily.

“On the contrary,” Kika said coolly. “It’s friendly enough, for now. We’re all just a bunch of pirates in a bar, having drinks.”

“Don’t reject the lady’s generosity, seaweed-head,” Sanji sniffed at him, glancing up. “It’s bad manners.”

Grumbling under his breath, Zoro nudged out the neighboring chair with his toe and slid into it, setting his bottle on the table as if to announce that they had their own drinks. Kika didn’t seem to be offering to buy them more, anyway. “What do you want, then?”

“Nothing much. Just interested in hearing the truth behind the rumors.” The captain left it up to them to decide which rumors she meant.

The two crewmates shared a look, which resulted in Sanji deciding to speak for them both while Zoro scrutinized the sort of crew the lady had around her. “I’m not sure we have the answers you’re looking for. It’s entirely possible the newspaper knows more than anyone at this table.”

“Oh?” Kika’s eyebrows arched elegantly. “You’re not telling me you abandoned your crew, then?”

Zoro rounded on her with a snarl. “Like hell I would ever betray my captain and crew!”

Sanji raised a hand as if to block him from jumping over the table and fighting anyone who would make that accusation. Yet, his own face wore a serious expression, his head bowed just enough to shadow his visible eye. “There are a lot of reasons crew members might find themselves separated from each other. All that matters is whether they’ve made plans to meet up again.”

Nearer to him, Sigurd folded his arms and leaned on the table. “Then explain why your captain was seen at Marineford, alone...”

“I wasn’t under the impression that I had to explain anything to anyone,” Sanji continued smoothly. “Least of all a bunch of pirates in some backwater port who invited us over for drinks.”

Kika studied him carefully, but the bulk of her attention was still on Zoro. Hervey seemed about to jump up and add fresh fuel to the argument, so she held up her hand in a similar fashion to back him off. “Maybe you’re right,” she said patiently. “It doesn’t really matter right now. But you can’t hold it against these ‘backwater pirates’ for being a little curious. It isn’t every day we get heads with such high bounties walking freely into the bar.”

“No offense meant to you, Lady Kika,” Sanji noted. “It wasn’t until we got to Sabaody that we had any idea just how notorious we seem to have become. What about your crew, yourself and, uh, Mr. Furious over there?”

Sigurd tried and failed to stifle a laugh, which made Hervey mad at him for the moment instead of Sanji. Kika ignored him. “Hervey doesn’t have a bounty yet,” she acknowledged, and then after an obvious hesitation, added, “nor do I.”

“But we’re well-known around these parts,” Sigurd put in, to the nods of his comrades. “Lady Kika is a force to be reckoned with. Now with Steele out of the way, we should be able to…” His eyes hardened suddenly, and he straightened up. “I shouldn’t have mentioned that.”

“It’s all right, Sigurd,” Kika reassured him, though her own tone mirrored some of his tension. “We can be honest about that. Steele was a thorn in everyone’s side, we’re all glad he’s gone.”

Sanji sat back in his chair, resisting the urge to shoot Zoro a glance. He didn’t need to, he could feel the sudden tensing of his crewmate’s muscles even without touching him. “News really does travel fast,” he remarked. “Your first mate is up on all the latest stories from the newspaper, and now this Steele business just a few days after it happened...”

The pirates across from them perked up considerably. “Wait, you’re not from around here,” Sigurd pointed out. “How do you know about the pirate Steele?”

Zoro relaxed just as quickly as he had startled. “Who do you think took him out?”

His announcement had the desired effect; Kika’s pirates erupted in shouts of disbelief and caused quite a ruckus around the table for a minute or so. It gave Zoro the time he needed to take a drink, pour himself another, and gauge their reactions. Beside him, Sanji smoked indulgently to hide his momentary discomfort at having faced Steele and gotten shot for it. He couldn’t remember the enemy captain being taken down, but he trusted Zoro’s story and knew that having this information made them infinitely more valuable to Kika. Just as he expected, she sat in the middle of her crew studying the two Straw Hats through narrowed eyes, as if trying to discern whether Zoro was pulling her leg. “Knowing that Steele is dead is no great feat,” she said when her boys had quieted down. “The Marines made no secret of it, they practically shouted it from the rooftops as soon as they got the report. We happened to have already made landing here when it was announced across the island. They’re very happy that the scourge of these seas is no longer a threat.”

“He was a threat to other pirate crews as well, then?” Sanji asked, giving her a prompting look.

“He would have sunk us just as much as any merchant or Marine vessel,” the thickset Dario complained. “It’s a good thing the _Grishend_ is one of the fastest ships around, he could never hit us even if he wanted to.”

Sanji’s gaze flicked from him to Kika as if to verify this, and he noticed that she wasn’t looking at anyone, now. Her eyes had shadowed, cast down toward the tankard on the table before her. “And yet, you don’t look pleased, Lady Kika,” he murmured.

She tossed her hair and looked up, giving him a stare that seemed to want to freeze this discussion in ice. “Don’t be ridiculous. I meant what I said. I have no regrets that it wasn’t us or some other crew that took him down, all that matters is that he’s dead and we’re free to make a name for ourselves in these waters.”

Zoro had been quietly observing her back, and chose that moment to make another one of his strangely astute statements of logic. “If you wanted a name that badly, you wouldn’t have stayed here in these waters. The Grand Line is wide open.”

The table of pirates became as hushed as it was noisy a minute ago. Eyes either went to Kika for an answering challenge, or diverted away abashedly. The captain’s expression was tight and evasive. “Just because a person calls themselves a pirate and flies a skull and crossbones doesn’t mean we’re all planning to sail to the end of the Grand Line in search of the One Piece,” she said curtly. “That may be your goal, but it is not mine.”

“What are you in it for, then?” Zoro sniffed, taking on a tone of challenge. “The glamour? Being able to brag in taverns?”

“Lady Kika has her reasons,” Sigurd said sternly. “They aren’t any of your business.”

Zoro didn’t seem to care. “Has your crew bothered to do anything at all, besides slink away in fear of this Steele wuss every time you saw him? He was nothing, you know. He was easy to beat. The cook and I didn’t even need the rest of that ship’s crew.”

The pirates were beginning to bristle at his accusations. Yet, Sanji remained sitting calmly beside him, sharing his assessment even if he didn’t like the blunt way Zoro tended to share his thoughts. It was getting them nearer to their goal – finding out what the Lady Kika wanted from them. She held up a hand again to keep Hervey from bursting into a tirade and fixed her glare on Zoro. “Then we should all be thankful that strong pirates like you happened to pass through our territory,” she said darkly, but not at all sarcastically. There was an ominous sincerity to her words. “I don’t have to tell you why I choose to stay in this area of the Grand Line. That is, indeed, my business alone. I will say this, though: removing one obstacle won’t automatically make me the next biggest threat. I know this. I need more than just my enemy defeated...I need strong crew members.”

“But you’ve got us, Lady Kika!” Dario insisted.

“And I value each and every one of you,” she assured. “But I could use another strong swordsman. Perhaps one with a bounty and a reputation attached to it already.”

Sanji sat up sharply. Zoro did not twitch, though his dark eyes narrowed. “So that’s what you wanted,” he realized. “No wonder you already knew my name and face.”

“What do you say, Roronoa Zoro?” Kika tossed her hair again, trying to regain her cold, aloof authority and a touch of flippant smugness. “Will you join my crew?”

“Now wait just a minute!” Sanji started.

Zoro touched his arm briefly to keep him quiet. His eyes remained locked on Kika, and a smirk slowly filled his face. “Not for all the beli in the world,” he replied in a sly purr. “You’ve got nothing I want.”

“Are you sure?” Kika grew serious. “I can offer you one thing you lack as a member of Straw Hat Luffy’s crew: security. This area of the Grand Line is full of hiding places, coves and dens and atolls where a pirate crew can safely wait out the pursuit of any Marine ship. It’s how Steele managed to reign in terror over all the merchant lines all this time – Marines come and go freely from Nirva and Obel Islands, and yet they could never lay a finger on him because he knew where to hide from them. I know all those same places, and a few more that Steele never discovered. The pickings are rich and easy, with the trading routes criss-crossing through these waters. Sabaody is near, as well.”

Zoro frowned at her. “Who said I wanted easy pickings? Or to get rich, for that matter?”

“Being rich means never having to go hungry,” Hervey shot back. “There’s plenty of fat cats around these parts who won’t miss their treasures, it’s not like we’re taking food from children’s mouths or anything.”

“The cook makes sure we never go hungry,” Zoro scoffed with a gesture of his thumb towards Sanji. “I’m not worried about that shit.”

“You prefer the impossible dream, of getting to the end of the Grand Line?” Kika wondered with a raised eyebrow. “That kind of thing is only going to get you killed, like all the other promising pirates with huge bounties that make it this far. They hardly ever live to get past the Red Line.”

Zoro sat up suddenly, making his chair thump on the floor. “Yeah, I do prefer the dream,” he said sharply. “Because Luffy’s going to be the Pirate King, and it’s my job to get him there. Security is worthless if you have nothing to live for.”

Though he sat silently observing the exchange without interrupting, Sanji felt a swell of pride in his chest, hearing his crewmate’s words. Not that he hadn’t heard them before; those were the words he woke up to on _Thriller Bark_ , the ones that drove him to stand up on weak legs and try to stop Zoro from giving up his dream. They were words he wholeheartedly agreed with, for he, too, intended to go beyond his own goal of reaching All Blue to see Luffy become the Pirate King. They were in this to the very end, no matter what they might have to sacrifice along the way.

Kika made a sour face at Zoro. “I hate to see a talented and powerful man throw his life away for something so intangible. You could have a good life in my crew, lived to the fullest. With you at my right hand, we could rule these waters and never have a care or worry for anything ever again.”

Zoro placed his hand flat on the table and pushed himself to his feet, ignoring that across from him, Hervey did likewise. “That sounds like a perfectly boring life to me. Ruling a pond instead of the world’s oceans. Lady, you don’t know the first thing about me and my goals. Don’t question them ever again.” He bent to pick up the duffel from under the table and slung it over his shoulder before reaching to snag his half-empty bottle of whiskey. “I told you, you have nothing to offer me.”

Kika finally shifted her attention fully to Sanji. “What about you, Black Leg? I don’t need another cook, but they don’t give cooks a bounty that high for no reason.”

Sanji regarded her for a moment, and then also got to his feet, taking up the backpack by one strap. “You are the most beautiful thing in these waters, a vision of ruby and gold to rival the greatest jewels in the world,” he said suavely. “But I’m going to have to agree with my crewmate on this one. We’ve got to get back to Luffy so we can keep on going to the New World. So thanks, but no thanks.”

Kika sighed hard. “Men,” she sniffed. “So full of themselves and their desires, never seeing the big picture. You have a long way to go to find your captain. It could be that he’s already left without you. If he’s cast you aside for getting lost, you could always find a home among my crew.”

Zoro’s eyes hardened like onyx, and his jaw clenched tight. “Luffy would never cast us aside,” he said in a low, threatening tone. “You don’t know him any more than you know us, so shut up!”

Hervey took a step toward him, but Sanji edged between them. “Sit down and finish your drink, Mr. Furious,” he said smoothly. “You can have a go at us some other time. We’ve got things to do.”

Zoro had been perfectly willing to waste what was left of his whiskey in order to drop the bottle and draw a sword, but he understood Sanji’s strategy. Brawling in that bar at that moment wouldn’t do any of them any good at all, and there was no sense in indulging a hot-headed young pirate who wanted the fight for his own sake rather than his lady’s honor. It was one of those fights that would have been pointless to carry out. Instead, Zoro turned on his heel and stalked toward the door without a further word. Sanji paused to at least offer Lady Kika a graceful bow before following. Most of the bar hadn’t been paying attention to anything going on in their corner, so very few eyes trailed after them as they left – only those of Kika’s table, which remained in sullen silence until after the door had swung shut.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's test and see if Sanji's healed up enough for some heated sexytimes. Spoiler: he is.

Sanji and Zoro strode up the street a ways before finally relaxing and shaking themselves out of the momentary tension of the encounter. Zoro tipped up the bottle to finish what was left of it, and then set the empty glass bottle on a barrel as they walked past. “Damn,” he muttered, “I didn’t expect something like that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sanji murmured. “It’s over and done with. We’ve got more important things to do – there’s still a few docked ships we haven’t checked. That was a long enough break, we ought to get back to business.”

“Yeah,” Zoro grudgingly agreed. “Let’s get this over with and start thinking about dinner.”

“It’d be nice to get on a ship tonight,” Sanji sighed, “but…well, I guess we have enough money for another hotel.”

“If it comes to that,” Zoro said. “I don’t care one way or the other.”

Neither said a further word about what had gone on in the bar, or the pirate crew they had met. They headed back to their route along the edge of the island, picking up where they had left off and continuing until they had exhausted every obvious possibility for getting passage off the island in the direction they wanted. Success eluded them. At least they finally ran into an independent fisherman who was able to tell them that the ships most likely to be headed for Sabaody weren’t in port and weren’t going to come back around to Nirva for at least a week, possibly longer. Such news was disheartening, but the two pirates didn’t let it get to them for now. The day was waning and they wanted dinner. Returning to the pirate-favored neighborhoods on the north side of the island, they found what seemed like a decent-enough inn, stowed their bags in a room, and headed back out to pick a restaurant. Zoro was indifferent about most of the details, so he left it to Sanji to make all the arrangements and decisions and simply followed along, making no complaints. In almost no time at all they were seated on opposite sides of a table on the outdoor veranda of a rather adorable family-owned restaurant that smelled richly of some of the best food either of the young men had ever tasted outside of Sanji’s own kitchen. Zoro ate with gusto while Sanji plied the waitress with compliments in an attempt to get some of the recipes, but she just giggled at his charm and left him high and dry – full and satisfied, but without any new recipes for his repertoire. When she was gone and they had their privacy, the cook sat forward with a more serious expression while he poked at what was left of his delicious dinner. “We can’t afford to wait another week. We’ve wasted enough time already.”

Zoro raised an eyebrow slightly over his drink. “How is the money situation, anyway?”

“Oh, we have plenty left for the two of us,” Sanji assured with a toss of his hand. “That isn’t the problem.”

“Mm. No, time is,” Zoro agreed. “And we’re just about out of luck as well.”

“I’ve been thinking.” Sanji scratched idly at his scruffy chin. “I remember something Nami said, about Sabaody. No log pose will point there, now that I stop and think about it. It’s not a real island, right?”

Zoro shrugged; he didn’t remember the discussion about the nature of the archipelago and the yaruki mangrove trees.

“But it still gets heavy ship traffic to and from the archipelago,” Sanji went on, musing out loud. 

“So?”

“So, there must be other ways of navigating there, that get around the weird way the Grand Line works. I mean, even if we can’t talk to fish like Miss Keimi, there’s got to be some way.”

Zoro tilted his head slightly. “Why are you so intent on this?”

“Because.” Sanji returned to his food. “We may not need a ship on a route to get there. Any old ship will do...even a pirate ship.”

In contrast, Zoro’s fervent eating slowed to a stop. “You’re not seriously suggesting…”

“They did brag that their ship was the fastest around,” Sanji said aloofly with his eyes on his dinner.

“And who’s going to sail it, just the two of us?”

“If it comes to that.” Sanji finally raised his head. “Look, I don’t want to slaughter that entire crew, either. They looked like they’d at least put up a good fight, and that’s just wasting more time. But if we can commandeer it some other way, that’d be just as good. I mean, sure, we could offer to pay them to take us to Sabaody, but I got a feeling that the only price they would accept is one we’re not going to pay under any circumstances.”

Zoro met his gaze at that, his own face fairly serious. It seemed the door was open for them to discuss Kika’s request obliquely, now that enough time had passed and both were feeling more generous with a good meal in their stomachs. “I want to know why she’s so intent on having me in her crew.”

“It sure as hell isn’t your charm,” Sanji smirked. “Who knows? Maybe if my bounty were as high as yours, I’d be the hot commodity instead.”

“Jealous?”

He was, a little, but Sanji wasn’t about to admit it. “They seem to really place a high value on bounties. A lot of people at this end of the Grand Line do.”

“Probably because there’s so many Marines around.” Zoro tipped his chin up in a gesture to direct Sanji to look down at the street below them. The restaurant veranda was on the second floor, giving them a pleasant view of the town, the ocean beyond the buildings, and a small knot of Marines walking past right at that moment. The white-shirted sailors were busy joshing each other, obviously looking for a place to get a meal or have a drink themselves, but they were Marines just the same.

“Oh, wonderful,” Sanji sniffed. “I wonder if it’s the same ship that met the _Flying Serpent_.”

“Doesn’t matter. It means we have to stay on our guard if we’re going to be roaming around.” Zoro relaxed once the intruders had gone off around the corner and disappeared, and returned to his meal as well. “Not that we have much to do once we’re done eating.”

“No, there’s nothing else we can do tonight,” Sanji sighed. “Tomorrow, though. I think I know better where we ought to go, and what we should ask around for.”

“If you say so.” Zoro put his head down and resumed stuffing his face eagerly. “Just leave the Kika Pirates out of it for now.”

“Last resort, only,” Sanji vowed, taking up his glass of wine to seal the promise.

By the time they finished, the sky was a blazing gold and the sun was quickly setting beyond the rim of the island. The streets were becoming rowdier in this part of Nirva, what with all the pirates who had landed looking for a good time, but it was nothing at all like some towns Sanji and Zoro had been to. There was a subtle sense of restraint in the air, the feeling that should anyone call too much attention to themselves, the Marines who had docked on the other end of the island would be all too happy to come running and take care of it. Nobody wanted that. The pair of Straw Hats walked casually back to the inn without incident, stopping along the way for Zoro to buy a bottle of sake with which to content himself for the rest of the night. When they got back, Sanji lingered outside for a while to finish a cigarette while observing the street in all directions from a nice spot under the eaves of the roof. This place had only one floor, so their room would be accessible from street level, but whatever he saw while smoking eased the cook’s mind enough that he headed inside without a worry for their protection. Not that he and Zoro couldn’t handle themselves if attacked in the night, but he really preferred an uninterrupted sleep. There was only one large communal bathroom serving the entire inn, of which both of them availed themselves before disappearing into their room. Zoro flopped to a seat by the small table in the center of the room with his bottle, looking rather satisfied with himself, and said nothing while Sanji flitted about the room taking care of other business, changing his shirt and repacking and similar duties. At one point, as he crossed in front of Zoro for the nth time, the swordsman stretched out a foot in an attempt at getting his attention. Not to trip him, but to nudge him if it were possible. “Oi,” he complained, “sit down. You’re making me dizzy.”

“Nobody said you had to watch,” Sanji shot back, avoiding the foot in his path. He did come to a stop a few paces later, standing there rubbing the back of his neck while he thought. His hair was growing longer, enough that the ends of it on the nape of his neck were still wet from washing up earlier, and it bothered him. Aware that Zoro was still watching him, he gave up on his activity and turned around with a sigh. He was done, anyway, there was nothing more he could think of that needed to be accomplished. “How’s the booze?”

“Pretty good, actually.” For lack of glasses, Zoro was drinking straight from the bottle, which he held up and waggled a little. “Want some?”

“What? This must be some kind of miracle – Zoro’s actually offering to share his sake?” Sanji took a couple of steps closer and reached for the offered bottle.

“I just want you to stop fluttering around,” Zoro smirked. “If that’ll do it.”

Sanji took a swig and savored it with some interest before handing the bottle back. “Mm. I can’t help it. When I don’t have any cooking to do I don’t have any other way of expending all that energy. Well...” His eyebrow twitched slyly. “I can think of a couple of other ways, but there’s no one to fight right now.”

“There’s someone to fuck, though, if that’s your other option,” Zoro said casually before taking another sip.

Sanji gave him an unimpressed look, although that was technically where his mind was about to head next. “That depends on whether I’m in the mood.”

“It beats fussing around here like a housewife.”

“I am not...!” Sanji gritted his teeth to bite back a snarl and placed himself confrontationally before Zoro, fists on hips. “If not for me taking care of shit, you would have lost your baggage by now!” he declared. “And with it probably most of the money you won.”

“Would not.” Zoro was relaxed enough not to rise to the bait, though he did stand up. He had no intention of letting Sanji talk down at him. He smirked even more intensely to see that the movement did not push his comrade away, but rather made him flush suddenly at the proximity of their bodies. Zoro pressed his luck by hooking a couple of fingers in Sanji’s belt and giving him a small tug. “I’m not in the mood to argue tonight. You in or you out?”

“Loaded question,” Sanji breathed.

“Yeah, I suppose you could take it that way.” Zoro bent his head and offered his lips, and after a moment’s pause in which he could feel a warm breath against them, the kiss finally came to meet him. There was something possessive about the way Sanji kissed him, making him fight back eagerly, and in no time they were all over each other, groping, groaning, and passionately ravaging each other’s mouths. Zoro dared to take the first bite, catching his partner’s lower lip between his teeth without too much pressure. Sanji growled in response, his hand clenching in Zoro’s short hair, and from that point on wasn’t hesitant to use his teeth in turn. Zoro had a fistful of the back of his shirt, pulling and pushing him closer with his other hand down around Sanji’s ass. He felt himself being shoved back against the table, which wasn’t a very stable support for the both of them in this fervor, and tore his lips free with a breathy chuckle. “I take it you’re in the mood after all,” he noticed. “I like that answer.”

The table slid back an inch or two, and the sake bottle rattled near at hand. Sanji controlled himself long enough to pull his head back and grin dangerously. “The only question now is, who’s going to be ‘in,’” he purred.

Both hands slid down to his ass and ground his hips against the other’s. “I got no intention of rolling over and letting you take charge this time,” Zoro warned.

“Me neither.” Sanji curled his hands around his comrade’s face and leaned in, licking along his lips and then scraping them with his teeth. “Guess you’ll have to fight me for it,” he added in a heated whisper.

By the eager snarl in the swordsman’s throat, he guessed that the challenge had been accepted. Arms tightened around his waist, trapping him, even as Zoro shoved him back so they wouldn’t knock over the table or his precious sake. Sanji planted his feet, his legs splayed out somewhat, refusing to go any further than that. He grabbed at Zoro’s shirt, but a hand came up and gripped his wrist, prying him off and holding him at bay. They were left to fight only with their lips and tongues, and did so for a while, doing their best to make each other weak in the knees so that the stalemate could be broken. To the cook’s dismay, Zoro had already discovered one of his favored spots, whether accidentally or not – his neck, particularly his throat. As Zoro shoved his face up under Sanji’s chin, nudged his head out of the way, and began to nip and lick at his neck, Sanji’s taut resistance melted for the briefest moment. It was all Zoro needed to bend his arm around behind his own back and take control. Sanji breathed a keening gasp of delight before he could stop himself, but it was too late to try to fight now. Zoro chuckled again in that sly, breathy way at how easy it was and seized him by the belt once more before unexpectedly dropping and shouldering his comrade’s body as if to carry him over to the bed. But in his eagerness, Zoro had forgotten one thing, which became all too clear as Sanji let out a scream of pain and suddenly kicked him in the gut – hard. The swordsman grunted and dropped to his knees, letting go and setting his partner free. Sanji reeled back a couple of steps, his arms folding around his chest as he hissed and seethed for breath. “Idiot!” he managed to snarl through clenched teeth.

“Sorry!” Zoro gasped back, testing his stomach gingerly. The kick hadn’t been at full lethal strength nor at a good angle, but it still hurt – and he deserved it, he knew. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”

“You forgot?!” Zoro’s muscled shoulder had butted directly against the bandaged wound beneath Sanji’s shirt. Both had gotten so carried away that they didn’t think about the strain to his injury until it had happened. 

As he began to catch his breath, Sanji backed away and eased to a seat on one of the beds, still hunched over. Zoro recovered more quickly and got to his feet, going immediately to his friend’s side. “Let me see.”

“Get off! You’ve done enough damage for one night!” Sanji protested, smacking his hand away.

“Let me see! I want to make sure I didn’t reopen it!” Zoro fought him this time, pulling his hands away from his chest. The throbbing pain made it hard for Sanji to continue fending him off, but he looked away sharply to express his frustration. Zoro’s hands were suddenly gentle as he undid the buttons of his comrade’s shirt and looked more closely at the wrapped bandages. There was no fresh blood to be seen, at least not yet. “I’m going to unwrap it,” he said before making any further moves. “Just to be sure.”

Sanji’s chest still heaved for breath, but it was starting to subside at last. He glowered at Zoro, but then lowered his head. “It probably should be redone, anyway,” he muttered. “I didn’t fix it after washing up.”

“I’ll take care of that, then.” Zoro slid off the bed and crouched down in front of the cook instead, a position that allowed him to work freely and get in close. He deftly unwrapped the current bandages and cautiously tugged them free, and examined the wound for a moment before going to get a fresh set from the backpack on the other bed. It took a while to clean and then re-wrap the site, but it gave them both time to cool down even after it was clear that the stitches had not been damaged and the wound was undisturbed by the momentary lapse of judgment. When he had finished, Zoro looked up with contrition in his dark eyes, leaving one hand resting gingerly on Sanji’s waist. “Looks like it wasn’t that bad after all,” he said quietly. “You okay?”

Sanji’s breathing had returned to normal, and the only lingering pain was a tiny, dull stitch he could feel at the apex of every breath. “Yeah, it’s...it passed,” he admitted darkly. “It hurt like a son of a bitch for a while, there, but not so bad now.”

It wasn’t often that he could look so closely into Zoro’s eyes and see him so solemn, read the hint of caring in his stern brow. With the swordsman’s face tilted up to him like that, a wordless apology, he had no choice but to accept with a brush of his fingertips to the man’s jaw. Zoro lowered his gaze for a moment, and then pushed himself up to reclaim his seat on the bed next to his comrade. “I didn’t mean to,” he insisted. “I just got carried away.”

“We both did,” Sanji noted. “It’s fine, just stop apologizing already. It’s over and done with.”

Zoro set a hand on his knee and gave it a caress. “Didn’t mean to ruin the mood, either.”

Sanji breathed a quiet sigh. “It was a good one, too.” He watched the hand on his knee for a moment, and then stopped its movement with a touch. Zoro was about to accept the rebuff and call the night over when the cook shifted over and swung his legs astride his comrade’s lap. It put him slightly higher, and undoubtedly in control. “You think you can do it without punching me in the chest again?” he wondered with a touch of sarcasm.

Zoro eyed him. “Of course I can. I can go slow and easy if I want.”

“I didn’t ask for slow and easy.” Sanji took hold of the lobe with three earrings as if to grab his attention fully. “Just be mindful this time and don’t _forget_. If you so much as poke me there, I’m going to tie your balls into a knot and leave you alone in this bed. Got it?”

The peering only intensified. “How the hell are you going to tie my balls in a knot?”

“I’ll _figure_ something _out_.” Sanji’s glare implied that he didn’t care about the specifics, but he was more than prepared to do something excruciatingly painful in payback for anything caused to his injury. Message received, Zoro nodded slowly. Only then did Sanji let go of his earlobe and run his thumb along his partner’s lips instead. “You’re going to have to work to get me hard again, I totally lost it after that.”

Zoro narrowed his eyes, unsure he could believe his luck. Not only was he welcome to continue, but it sounded like the cook wanted it rough, still. He wasn’t sure _he_ could rebuild his passion, but if he had free rein to try, then he would. As long as he kept from irritating that injury, right? He lowered his eyes, his gaze sweeping the length of the sinewy body perched before him with his shirt hanging open to show not just the bandages but the tight abs and pale skin that Zoro had recently come to find personally enticing. He curled his hands around Sanji’s waist, brushing them along his flanks, and was immediately rewarded with the cook’s long, nimble fingers threading through his short hair, grabbing his head and caressing roughly. His arms rested on Zoro’s shoulders, not pulling or demanding but still trapping him in the warmth of a loose embrace. Purring under his breath, Zoro leaned in and kissed wetly along the upper part of Sanji’s chest, above the wrap of bandages, as if licking the sweat from his body. There was a corresponding growl of pleasure in response, making him smile as he worked. Maybe it wouldn’t be all that difficult to get back to where they had been, after all.

Sanji buried his nose in green spikes, breathing in the swordsman’s rich, musky scent tinged with metal. Rough hands were already beginning to paw him up and down, and he reciprocated with his own touch, kneading the back of Zoro’s neck and working down to his shoulders, tugging him closer in order to keep those lips in contact with his chest and neck. Then a tongue delved into the hollow of his throat, and he let out an embarrassingly loud groan. There came a hiss against his skin and then teeth were tugging, pinching, right at his collarbone. Sanji’s head tilted way back as his breathing became quicker, and his hands clenched fistfuls of Zoro’s shirt at the back of his collar. Zoro didn’t bite excessively, he switched back to those wet kisses as he tasted the length of the graceful neck stretched out for him. A hand slid around to grip the side of his face, and he found himself being pried up from his work. He barely had time to blink before Sanji swiftly leaned in and kissed him hard, molding their mouths together with such ferocity that it seemed like he was trying to breathe in Zoro’s very energy through that kiss. It was provocative and demanded reciprocation of equal fervor, which Zoro was willing to provide. Both had to stop and breathe at the same time, and sat there panting in each other’s faces for a moment while their hands continued to roam. Zoro’s touch brushed over Sanji’s fly as if to check, and discovered that he did indeed have a lot of work to do. He worked his way around to Sanji’s ass and gave it a squeeze with both hands, and received a grunt in his ear for it. Something crossed his mind, then, making him tilt his head. “You got anything we can use? To, uh...”

He trailed off with an implied “you know,” at which Sanji lifted his head and peered at him. “What are you worrying about that for? I’m not even close to ready.”

“Yeah, I know, but.” Zoro shrugged, his cheeks flushing a little in embarrassment. “Better to think about it now than in the moment. Then it’s even more awkward to get up and get something.”

Sanji couldn’t really argue with that. He huffed and sat back a little. “Yeah, I picked up something on Esme that’ll do.”

“So go get it. Then we don’t have to stop.”

The cook sighed again at having to interrupt the session at all, but better now than later, indeed. He gracefully disengaged, pushing his hand against Zoro’s face just for spite as he gained his feet and crossed to the other bed. A lot of non-clothing supplies were in the small backpack, including a corked bottle he had bought at a rather fancy shop selling toiletries of all kinds. “Ah, good. It survived just fine.” He turned to waggle the bottle at Zoro. “Massage oil.”

Zoro gave him the deadest of deadpan looks. “Seriously.”

“What? It’s made for just such an occasion.”

“It’s not gonna smell like roses or something, is it?”

“I don’t think so.” Sanji checked the label belatedly. “I’m pretty sure I got unscented.”

The gruff swordsman got up and went to join him, wanting to inspect this for himself. It was, perhaps, the right substance for the activity, but the shamelessness of it made him frown for a moment. He had no intention of performing any silly romantic rituals that the maker and seller of the oil probably meant it for, and wanted even less to know what kinds of things Sanji might have said about why he was buying it. While he stood there looking over the bottle and the label, his companion slipped out of his shirt and draped it on the bed. “Fine,” Zoro said at last. “It’ll do.”

“It’s not going to bite you, idiot.” Sanji took the bottle back and stood there gazing aloofly at him, hips cocked and head tilted. His whole body was an invitation and a challenge. “Unless you don’t want any of this.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Zoro grabbed him possessively by the belt buckle, yanking him closer. “We both know you want it just as bad.”

Sanji leaned in close, almost prowling, but held back on any kissing for now. “You’re still going to have to fight me for the top position. I haven’t given in.”

“Yeah...?” Zoro remained still for a moment, and then made his move, grasping the forearm of the hand that held the bottle of oil. Sanji flicked his wrist and let the little vial fall onto the soft bedding so it would be out of the way, grinning smugly. With his other hand still on the cook’s belt, Zoro found it easy to back him a few steps until he hit the wall, and only then did he lunge in for a hard kiss. For his part, Sanji was not about to play wilting flower, so he fought back the only way he could, plying his tongue in all the right ways. The smack against the wall didn’t hurt, thankfully, and he was aware that it put him in the delicious position of being dominated and held down, covered by the heat of Zoro’s body, but he wasn’t going to quietly roll over and let it happen. His free hand clutched the back of his partner’s head, holding him to be kissed breathless and not allowed to escape. Zoro showed no sign of pulling back, though, meeting the challenge and matching the pace. His grip on Sanji’s wrist was loose but secure, since there didn’t seem to be any attempt at breaking free. Their hips surged against each other, fighting on their own. Zoro groped downward from the belt buckle, squeezing and kneading roughly, all demand and no finesse. Sanji grunted against his lips and tightened his grip on the back of his neck, finding himself turned on not by the touch itself but by the forcefulness of it. The hand on his fly wanted him – no, _needed_ him, and wouldn’t let a simple thing like clothing get in the way. But it was only a start, a tease. He needed more than that. He slid his hand around to Zoro’s shoulder and then down, pushing against him, and his trapped wrist flexed with sudden energy – he wanted to touch and feel as much as gain control. The swordsman’s bulk was heavy, though, and he resisted, pressing Sanji back into the wall and suddenly descending to ravage his neck and throat some more. Gasping hard, Sanji squirmed and then shoved one leg in between Zoro’s, dislodging the pawing hand and returning the favor with his thigh against the hardness hidden in the other black trousers.

Zoro breathed a heavy groan into the crook of Sanji’s neck and pressed even more firmly against him, grinding himself on that leg and pinning him chest-to-chest. He still had control, though, and asserted it by grabbing the other hand as well and making sure both were held securely to the wall. He drew back enough to look Sanji in the eye while they both caught their breath, at which the cook smirked darkly. “Really, now. You’re not going to get anywhere if you can’t use your hands, either.”

Naturally, Zoro had thought he was onto something, but Sanji’s remark caught his attention. He looked down and all around, then, and frowned. “Bah, and you’re not wearing a tie.”

He wasn’t wearing anything on his upper half, actually, which is why Sanji only tilted his head in a knowing expression. “It’s a little late for you to be noticing, dumbass.” His flippancy hid the rising flush of heat he felt over the idea – did the idiot swordsman actually intend to tie his wrists with his own tie? It was something he had always wanted, he was constantly looking for that woman who was brave and bold enough to provide (he had it all worked out in his fantasies! That perfect woman who would undress him with her delicate hands, slip his tie off his neck, and bind him with it before making passionate love to him). Yet, once again, it was Zoro of all people who actually approached him with the plan, even if it was moot since he was already shirtless and his nearest tie was somewhere in their bags. Then, the face so close to his took on a smirk of its own, and one wrist was let free for the moment while Zoro reached down and unbuckled his belt. Sanji snarled a bit in anticipation. “Oi, oi, slow down, would you? You’re still fully clothed.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” One good yank and Zoro had the belt pulled completely free from Sanji’s trousers. His comrade gasped in spite of himself, realizing what he was going to do with it. He managed to get the belt looped around the one wrist he still held, but before he could go back to recapture the other, a foot came to rest on his shoulder. Zoro barely had time to look at it and blink before Sanji leaped and managed to vault into a nimble leg-trap which snagged him around the shoulders and dragged him flat onto the floor. But Zoro still had a hold of the other end of the belt, and yanked him back before he could completely escape, leaving Sanji sitting on his chest. Both were breathing hard all of a sudden, and grinning a bit at each other. This was the kind of fight they could enjoy. Sanji was absolutely not going to surrender just because they were touching on another of his hidden fantasies, he was going to make Zoro work for it or escape from his clutches and turn the tide, one or the other. He planted one bare foot smack on the floor next to the swordsman’s head, braced his restrained hand in another spot, and back-flipped away before he could be caught, but he didn’t get far. He landed gracefully in a crouch in the spot previously occupied by Zoro’s legs, and made no move to try to unhook the belt from his right wrist. Zoro swiftly sat up to pursue him, reeling him in with another good yank, but Sanji was not a skilled martial artist for nothing. His foot came up again and pushed against the other’s brawny chest, keeping him at bay without damaging him. He let out a quiet laugh under his breath, and in the next instant his foot was under Zoro’s shirt, his toes almost grasping the fabric by themselves. Zoro grabbed for his leg but was kicked back again, and very quickly found himself wrestling with his own shirt as it was tugged up around his head. He didn’t let go of the belt, but he did back off and rectify the situation by pulling the shirt off and flinging it away. “Is that what you’re getting at?” he challenged.

“Much better,” Sanji said smartly, already back where he started with one knee resting on the floor. That knee inched forward and butted against Zoro’s groin, not to hurt him, but to tease. Since his hand was already partially trapped, Sanji reached and grabbed a fistful of haramaki, daringly pulling himself closer to his comrade but angling his torso to keep his free hand out of reach for now. Zoro sat up and leaned forward to meet him, breathing heavier yet at the firm touch against his inner thighs encouraging his hardness. His lips curled in a growl as he presented them to be tasted, and Sanji likewise snarled under his breath before leaning in close for a lick and then a bite. Zoro pulled hard on the belt to drag him closer and off-balance, but the lithe cook was too good for that. He darted away again, and flicked his wrist to get his hand on the belt himself and pull back. He was allowed to do so, mostly because Zoro had hesitated to make sure that whatever wicked ideas were running through his mind weren’t going to aggravate that injury. His free hand groped for Sanji’s fly and got it open before he could be stopped, though he still kneaded through clothing, a little more gentle this time but not by much. Sanji bit back a groan and covered it with a purr and a grin, leaning down with a threat of a kiss but withholding it entirely. Zoro moved to grab him but he swiftly hopped back and rose up, just enough to plant a foot on his comrade’s shoulder dangerously close to his neck and ear. From that position he could do almost anything – attack, tackle, trap, move, even escape. At least he had enough of a grip on the tether that when Zoro tried pulling him down, he resisted, that foot keeping the other from being able to get up or maneuver. He stood for a moment, foot braced, grinning down at the swordsman, their arms taut as they both strained at the belt connecting them, almost daring each other to let go first. Sanji eased off slightly, but only to use the momentum to lean his body forward and dig his heel into that shoulder. “You got things started,” he murmured dangerously, “you might as well keep going.”

Zoro looked up at him, his dark eyes narrowing. “This?” He reached up and fondled the groin more or less directly in his sight, being presented to him what with his partner’s foot where it was. He was pretty sure what Sanji had in mind, and it looked like a good idea. He tugged at the black trousers and manhandled the growing erection hidden inside, finding that he still had a ways to go before he could be considered ready for anything. A little shifting around and Zoro was in prime position, one hand on Sanji’s ass still holding the end of his belt. He peeled back enough of his fly to bury his nose in all the right places and kiss through the fabric of Sanji’s briefs until he could hear the cook grunt and moan just from watching. Zoro shot him a quick smirk before working every bit of clothing out of the way and delving in with lips and teeth. The foot on his shoulder slid down around his back, both to pull him in closer and to make it easier for pants to be tugged lower. Not that they needed to be; Zoro was doing just fine in this position, licking and sucking eagerly to bring that half-hard shaft to full attention. Sanji was happy to let him, for as long as he could handle standing there making the demand. By the time his knees started to go even the slightest bit weak, Zoro had done his job and done it well, and was now gleefully tasting the length of a healthy erection standing up from the folds of those trousers. At a particularly heavy gasp from his partner, he looked up and leered. “C’mere.”

He tugged on the belt, though not forcefully, enough to indicate what he wanted. Sanji drew his foot back from where it rested and planted it on the floor before obeying the tug, letting himself be dragged down to his knees in front of his comrade. They were on an even level now, all the better for a few more deep, hungry kisses. The tension on the belt went completely slack, lulling him into a false sense of ease – Zoro’s hands were gently worshipping his torso, almost curling around him. Before he knew it had happened, Zoro seized his other wrist and used the webbed belt to bind his hands together behind his back. Sanji had enough presence of mind to struggle at the last second, but he was too late to get out of it. The swordsman laughed darkly at the change in fortune and grabbed him around the hips, pulling him tight against his own body. Exposed cock met clothed groin, and they both growled at the sensation. The capture, more than anything, made Sanji actively resist, as he could no longer easily claim the top spot with his hands immobilized behind him. He writhed against Zoro, only making it harder – literally – for both of them. “You asshole!” he hissed.

“Got you right where I want you,” Zoro snickered. He bent his head and ravaged the cook’s neck until he couldn’t decide whether to curse or moan, and then pushed against him to force him to sit. At the same time he pushed himself to his feet, and stood towering over his partner with an eager grin. He pulled the lower edge of his haramaki up enough to be able to undo his fly, releasing himself to be just as exposed and wanting. Sanji sat back, but not for long, as Zoro caught his chin and dragged him forward again. “Nuh-uh. It’s about time I got a little in turn. You get me?”

Sanji’s visible eye went wide, though his brow curled down in a scowl. “You don’t need any help,” he scoffed, and it was true. The swordsman was proud and erect already, making him feel inadequate to have it sticking up there in his face like that.

“Who said anything about help?” Zoro’s hand fisted in blond hair, but he didn’t pull hard. “I like to have my dick sucked just as much as you do,” he concluded in a purr. “Fair’s fair.”

As far and as fast as they had progressed together, Sanji was still not certain he wanted to try it. He really wasn’t interested in the experience or the taste, no matter what his comrade might say about fair turnabout. But at the same time, he didn’t want to ruin the mood by outright refusing. He trusted that he wouldn’t be forced if he really didn’t want to, but the problem was conveying that without it being mistaken for more rough play. He lifted his gaze to Zoro’s face and put on his most sincere solemn stare. “Not interested,” he said flatly.

Zoro frowned, almost pouting. “Come _on_...I did it for you.”

“And I’m very grateful,” Sanji said. “I just don’t want to. Not right now.”

Zoro held his gaze, his grip going slack. His hand found its way down to Sanji’s cheek, and then his chin and lips, his thumb caressing and then intruding. The dark eye beneath the curly brow drifted closed, and the cook accepted the fingers in his mouth, caressing with his tongue in turn. It was as close as he would get. “Fine,” Zoro said after a bit, his tone heavy and a bit annoyed. “Not right now. But sooner or later I’m gonna get it.”

“We’ll talk about it later,” Sanji promised. “Now let me up.”

“Forget it.” The leer was suddenly back with a spark. “If you want so badly to fight me for it, do it with your hands tied. Come on. You’re the kenpo artist, aren’t you?”

For a moment Sanji lowered his head, his hair hiding his eyes, but his lips curled back in a matching manic grin. “Ohh? You still want a fight, then?” He sprang up faster than Zoro anticipated, only hampered a little by his state of arousal, and leaped high enough to wrap those long legs around his comrade’s ribcage. Fortunately, Zoro moved in time and caught him before the attack could topple him again, and he lunged forward to slam Sanji back into the wall where they had started. It was the perfect way to brace him, though now neither could use their hands. Sanji bent and nearly curled himself over the other, snarling into his hair as Zoro nipped and kissed at his stomach. He tightened his legs around him and rolled his hips, trying to get into a better position one way or another. The hands supporting his ass snuck into his trousers and squeezed firm muscle and flesh, and then hoisted him up a little more to make more of his abs available for the biting and delighting. Sanji braced his bound hands flat against the wall behind him and suddenly drew back his legs so he could kick Zoro off of him. His bare feet pushed against the swordsman’s brawny chest, buying him the space to safely land on the floor and retaliate. If either had stopped and thought about it, it really was stupid, the two of them brawling each other with their pants hanging open to show their mutual arousal, but such was the heat and urgency of their passion. They didn’t care. Each wanted to dominate the other, and this was the only way to settle it.

Zoro moved to grab his comrade, but Sanji ducked and evaded him. One foot swept around in a graceful kick to the back of Zoro’s knees, but instead of falling out of the way he tottered backwards and almost collapsed on top of Sanji. The cook managed to roll away, but got his heel caught in the loose folds of his falling trousers before he could manage a skillful getaway. He thudded onto his ass on the floor, and then Zoro was on him, wrapping strong arms around his legs and foiling him. Even as Sanji writhed and tried to worm away, Zoro prowled over him, taking great pains not to come near his wound and yet managing to trap him nonetheless. They lay together on the floor gasping for breath, Zoro’s arms and legs curled tightly around his comrade and the heat of his erection clasped between their bodies, wedged neatly between the curves of Sanji’s ass. Sanji let out a keening gasp as his own cock suddenly throbbed in eagerness, wanting more. He was losing the fight but it felt so good. Not to be outdone, Zoro pressed his face against his partner’s neck and earlobe, still panting, his breath just as hot as regions below. “Nice try,” he murmured, “but I think I win this round.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Sanji breathed, closing his eyes because _oh god it felt so good_. Things had gone beyond the realm of merely rough into places no woman had taken him before, and he was in ecstasy. Or would be, with a little more time and attention. Teeth sank into the spot where neck met shoulder and sent him writhing again, though this time rubbing back against Zoro’s hard, waiting body. He managed to get his hands inched down and found the other’s cock, and fisted it with short, quick jerks until the bite released and Zoro moaned against his shoulder instead. The arm around his waist slid lower and haphazardly pulled at his trousers, trying to work them the rest of the way off. It was a move in vain, and Zoro had to sit up a little in order to actually complete the job. He pressed a hand to Sanji’s back just below his nape in order to hold him down so he wouldn’t squirm off anywhere, his weight enough to prevent another turn of control. Sanji grumbled and panted but didn’t try to escape this time, finding himself well and pinned to the floor and being stripped fully naked. He grunted and grumbled but secretly really liked the manhandling, though he had to be careful not to roll too far over and risk his injured chest. Then, the weight vanished so abruptly that it took him a moment or two to register it, but no sooner had he lifted his head and looked to see what Zoro was doing and he was back, now holding the bottle of massage oil in one hand. Before Sanji could twitch a foot he was being held down again, with his bound arms under forceful control. He growled and started to roll back onto his side. “I didn’t say you could have that...”

“Too bad.” Zoro actually helped to flip him, and then deliberately sat on his leg so he couldn’t move. The other he held down as he leaned over Sanji with a smirk. “Unless you can knock me over and top me in the next minute, I’d say it’s been decided already.”

“Tch...” Sanji insolently turned his head away, pretending to ignore the man entangled with him. His body yearned for the contact, but he wasn’t going to acquiesce like some blushing bride. Lying on his side with his arms still bound behind his back was surprisingly more comfortable than he expected, but it could have been nicer. He felt Zoro shift around, and noted that he was still half-clothed. Preparation was apparently more important at the moment, though, and it was only a moment later that he felt oiled fingers groping his ass and finding the entrance. He bit his lower lip to hold back a moan, but he couldn’t keep from arching his back toward the touch. Zoro took his topmost leg and propped it against his shoulder, spreading him wider and giving himself more to appreciate. With two fingers he hurried to get Sanji ready while his other hand explored, kneading and stroking and toying. He had a splendid view of just what all this roughhousing was doing to his partner, and he was rather pleased with himself. He almost got right down to it then and there, but he didn’t want to get a mess all over his haramaki so there was one last fleeing moment in which Zoro had to let go of Sanji and rise up a bit to pull off the stomach-band and try to get out of his pants. Sanji nearly kicked him off, but Zoro pounced on him just in time, his black pants still clinging resolutely to one leg. He caught the foot and bent Sanji’s leg back toward him, and repositioned as he had been with Sanji’s other leg beneath him. It wasn’t the easiest of positions, but they were both over-eager and didn’t care. Hooking an arm under that loose leg, Zoro pushed against him and rushed to enter, almost unable to restrain himself. It didn’t matter that he was going in sideways; in fact, the position was part of the excitement. Sanji gasped and then bit his lip to keep from making any louder outcry at the intrusion, though his body subtly relaxed as he finally acquiesced to the victor. After all, second place was just as good as first. His bound hands clenched into fists, his head tilted back and lolled toward the floor, his eyes closing as a mix of pain and delight flitted across his expression. It would take a minute or two for the discomfort to fade and the real pleasure to begin.

Zoro paused just long enough to shift that topmost leg back over his shoulder, allowing his partner the briefest moment he needed to adjust, and then the heated attack resumed. Not knowing whether the walls of this place were thin, Sanji did his best to restrain his usual noise, gritting his teeth and swallowing his cries. He was at the mercy of Zoro’s relentless punishment, which his body accepted and even craved. It really didn’t take long at all before his toes began to curl, and a few select curses slipped out on hissed breath. He lay with his head tipped back, a wanton gaze cast back towards Zoro – Sanji was unable to shift or touch or grab, he could do nothing but take it and knowing so, watching it happen, was about to push him to the brink too fast. Able to read it in the body beneath him, Zoro stopped abruptly, taking the opportunity to catch his breath as well. He teased his fingertips up his comrade’s thigh, kissed the knee resting over his shoulder, and smirked widely over his triumph. There really wasn’t any need for the belt any longer, so he stretched to grab and loosen it, to free Sanji’s hands. The cook let out a grunt of relief and shifted around, making himself more comfortable for the finish, and then lay there panting for another long moment, looking up through his disheveled bangs at the man hovering over him. Zoro’s lips curled in a lazy grin, appreciating the view spread out before him. “So all that stuff before wasn’t just talk,” he purred. “You really do like it rough.”

Sanji’s visible eye peeped at him from between strands of blond hair, gleaming darkly. “This isn’t hardly rough,” he taunted. “You’re just sitting there. What’s the matter, too tired?”

“Oh, you want more, then?” Zoro leaned forward, pressing against the raised leg. “I was just making sure you didn’t end this too quickly. What a hair trigger…”

“Shut up...!”

“Heh.” The swordsman twitched his hips, pushing himself in deeper, evoking a hiss. “You want it, huh? I can feel it.” His voice dropped to a throaty growl shared between them alone. “Your body fits mine so easy, already. It takes me right to the hilt...all the way in. Like it’s hungry for me...”

Sanji’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp, and he could feel the flush creeping up his neck and ears. Shameless dirty talk on top of everything else? How lucky was _he_ , tonight? “Move, then,” he breathed. “What are you waiting for? I’m not getting any harder...”

“You sure? You looked like you were.” Zoro flicked a finger at the tip of Sanji’s erection, making it throb and the cook heave a keening moan. “It’s my turn, this time. I’m the one in charge, we’ll keep going when I feel like it.”

Though he had, of course, done the same in turn before, Sanji received this threat with a narrowed gaze. Zoro sat on top of him, lording it over him, grinning and licking his lips as he curled his thumb and forefinger around his partner’s cock to tease him further. For a moment Sanji looked like he was going to give in, as he laid back and clawed a hand through his hair, but then he suddenly yanked back his foot from over Zoro’s shoulder and kicked him squarely in the center of the chest just hard enough to push him off his seat. He was up off the floor and on top of the other in a flash, straddling his stomach and clamping hands on his shoulders to keep him down. Startled, Zoro didn’t react until it was too late, and then he only stared in surprise at the flushed, eager face staring down into his. Sanji inched backward until he found what he wanted by touch alone, not using his hands for guidance, and bared his teeth as he sank down onto his comrade’s waiting cock. Zoro swore under his breath, dropping his head back onto the floor with a thunk. This wasn’t part of the plan, but he wasn’t complaining. Sanji did indeed want it, and decided to take it at his own pace instead, shifting around to get the best angle and then slamming down onto Zoro as fast as he dared. Zoro’s hands came up and fisted in his blond hair, pulling him down in turn. They panted in each other’s faces as the minutes stretched on, both falling nearly silent except for a few soft grunts at each jolt of sensation. The pace escalated, the breaking point was drawing near – again. Sanji bent his head and molded his mouth to Zoro’s, kissing him roughly the way he liked it. His fingers dug into the swordsman’s shoulders as he pushed back, ripping his lips away in time to let out a strangled cry that warned he was coming. The hands in his hair moved swiftly, grabbing him by the arm and the back of the neck, taking a solid hold on him a second before Zoro pushed up and over, still coupled with him. He rolled Sanji onto his back, and the instant his knees hit the floor he resumed thrusting for himself, seeking the angle that would do him some good as well. It was too late to stop Sanji’s orgasm, he tried biting back the cries but let a few escape as Zoro just kept thrusting into him, hard, fast, not stopping until he was done as well. It was almost painful, having the pleasure stretched so far, but Sanji bore it with great gasps of breath that pulled at the stitches in his chest. Finally it stopped, as Zoro slammed a hand into the floor beside his partner’s ear and held himself pressed deep at the apex of a thrust so his body could empty itself. The cook sprawled beneath him, limp, heaving for breath, and completely spent in a way he had never experienced before. If not for the fact they were on the hard wooden floor, he would have passed out right there. Zoro sagged tiredly but didn’t fall onto him, having just enough presence of mind to remember not to harm the injury. Instead, he pulled out and sat back on his heels, likewise breathing hard and beaded in sweat. After a long pause for recovery, he brushed a hand down his stomach where the results of Sanji’s orgasm remained. “Holy shit...”

Sanji cracked open an eye and grinned hazily. “Ditto,” he breathed after a moment.

“ _Fuck_. I’ve never had it so good,” Zoro mumbled, not even caring that he was saying so out loud. “I mean if you’d really said no, I’d have...”

“Are you kidding?” Sanji lifted a hand and rubbed at his bandaged chest, which hurt a little from the force of his panting. “I was counting on you being a goddamn animal. I _said_ I didn’t want it nice and easy.” His breathing was finally starting to come down to normal, so he sat up and combed his hair back from the right side of his face. A few strands of it still stuck to his brow from sweat. “If the answer was ‘no’ you’d have never gotten inside me in the first place.” He prodded his comrade in the chest with a finger. “My turn next time, though.”

Zoro gazed at him for a moment, and then tiredly nodded. “Yeah, all right. Whatever.”

He remained there even as Sanji straightened up and leaned forward to kiss him, a brief offer of gratitude before he struggled to his feet and planted his hand firmly on Zoro’s head to support himself as he tottered on past. His knees were quite literally weak after that, but he needed a cigarette like nobody’s business and his tobacco purse was over on the table. He stood there unabashedly naked as he took one out, lit it, and smoked indulgently for a few minutes. He heard the stir of his comrade getting up, and found himself joined a moment later, though Zoro reached past him for the bottle of sake that had come through the battle unscathed. They both enjoyed their respective calming vices in silence before even thinking of cleaning up and getting dressed; Sanji finished first, and smoothed a hand over Zoro’s abs as he shouldered past to go make use of the water and wash-basin provided for inn guests. Not to be outdone, Zoro waited until he passed and gave him a light smack on the ass. Sanji whirled around quicker than the eye could follow and his foot came up, but it stopped a hair’s-breadth away from the bridge of Zoro’s nose. The swordsman recoiled in surprise, even though he hadn’t been touched – let alone harmed. “ _Now_ you’re pushing your luck,” Sanji warned. “Next time I don’t hold back.”

Zoro grumbled under his breath and shook it off to recover his composure. “It’s impossible to know where the boundary lines are, with you.”

“Don’t _slap_ my ass,” Sanji said plainly, returning his foot to the floor and his state to calm. “Even if it is a nice one and you can’t help but admire it.”

Zoro held his gaze for a moment and then shrugged it off with a snort. He occasionally realized just how far he had already pushed things, for a man like Sanji to consent to and enjoy the things they had been doing. Zoro couldn’t help it if he got carried away once in a while. Content with the tacit agreement, Sanji continued on to where an ewer of water and a basin sat on a bureau, for them to use to wash up. Once he had finished off the bottle of sake, his comrade did the same, and in almost no time both had thrown some clothes back on and were making moves to turn back the bedsheets and get some sleep. Thanks to their private activities, it had gotten quite late. Yet both were still awake enough that when someone rapped on their door, both sat up sharply and looked toward the sound.

Thanks to their private activities, it had gotten quite late. Yet both were still awake enough that when someone rapped on their door, both sat up sharply and looked toward the sound. The inn didn’t have any sort of room service or much of a staff for that matter, and they weren’t expecting anybody. They glanced at each other before Sanji called out in a low tone. “Who’s there?”

The voice through the door was muffled of course, but already speaking in a quiet register itself. “My name is Sigurd, I’m one of Lady Kika’s men.”

Zoro slid off the bed and grabbed Wadou Ichimonji without making a sound, and prowled stealthily into position. Sanji pushed himself to his feet and crossed to the door, directing his comrade with a quick gesture as he reached for the doorknob. “It’s rather late, man of Lady Kika’s. Funny time to be dropping by.”

“I’m aware of that,” Sigurd said in the same low tone. “Perhaps that would be a good reason to open the door, rather than let everyone in the hallway get an earful.”

The sword whispered from its sheath; Zoro waited beside the door, leaning against the wall. Satisfied, Sanji nodded to him and laid his hand on the doorknob. “You’re suggesting there’s something we might want to hear?”

“Yes. Please.”

The door opened for him, but Sanji wisely remained behind it as he pulled it wide, in the off chance an attack was waiting to meet them. The tall, clean-cut pirate stepped into the doorway, and instantly had the blade of Wadou Ichimonji resting just under his chin. He raised both hands into clear view. “I mean no harm,” he insisted. “I just want to talk. I have a message from Lady Kika.”

“You’re armed,” Zoro noted, though no weapon was immediately visible. He knew, though. He could tell.

“So are you,” Sigurd murmured. “If you wish, I’ll hand over my knives for the duration of this meeting.”

Zoro gave him a stern side-eye, not lowering his sword even a fraction. “I’d rather you kept both hands where I can see them.”

Sanji sidled out from behind the door, his hands casually tucked in his trouser pockets. “Now, now, moss-head, he said he had a message. I’m rather curious what the fine lady has to say that necessitates her pets slinking into hotel rooms in the middle of the damn night.”

Sigurd seemed wary, but not the least bit ruffled. “I didn’t plan to deliver it at sword-point. You have my word, I’m not going to attack.”

Sanji let Zoro decide whether to accept his word. A moment later the sword withdrew; Zoro sheathed it but kept it in hand. “Fine. Say what you have to say.”

The cook moved to close the door to give them the slightest bit of privacy. Sigurd glanced from one to the other. “You are...all right, then? The innkeeper said she might have heard the sounds of fighting earlier, coming from your room. I thought someone else might have attacked you.”

Zoro looked away quickly to hide a blush. Sanji managed to retain his composure. “Us? No. We yell at each other all the time, it doesn’t mean anything. Certain innkeepers need better things to do with their time than eavesdrop on their guests, I think. But now, you came here for a reason. Out with it.”

Sigurd straightened up and went to clasp his hands behind his back, but a dark glare from Zoro restrained him. He did as he said he would and kept them where they could be seen. “The Lady Kika…understands that it might have been rude to extend her offer to just one of you, and not both,” he said smoothly in his quiet tone. “She sends me with a revised offer, in the hopes that you’ll reconsider.”

“No,” Zoro said flatly. “And that’s the end of it.”

“You don’t even know what the offer is...”

“I don’t care. The answer’s still no.” Zoro edged to one side to face the visitor, his dark eyes hard. “She can make us all the offers she wants, I’m not joining any other crew.”

Undaunted, Sigurd pressed on with the message he had been given. “Lady Kika recognizes that you want to get back to Straw Hat Luffy. But the rumors in the newspaper say he vanished after the battle at Marineford. It’s possible he won’t be anywhere near Sabaody Archipelago even if you go there.” The expressions on the two faces across from him were darkening, so Sigurd hurried through the rest of it. “Lady Kika also understands the value of a cook on the high seas, and so would be willing to take you as far as Sabaody to see for yourself...on the condition that Roronoa Zoro remain with her crew.”

“So she’ll take the cook back to Luffy, but not me.”

“That is the gist of it, yes.”

“No.”

“But...” Sigurd looked to Sanji for his opinion.

The cook stood with his eyes closed, his face solemn. “It’s rare that I have to turn a lady down. Twice in one day, no less. What _is_ this world coming to?” The lightness of his tone was a warning, though, a deceptive calm before the storm. He stepped up to the taller man and snapped an icy glare at him. “He may be an idiot and a seaweed-brain, but he’s my crewmate. You heard his answer three times already, so get it through your thick head. I’ll leave it up to you to explain your failure to your captain.”

“She shouldn’t have even asked a second time,” Zoro said heavily. “This pervert cook may need to get back to the crew, but he’s not the only one. And I’m not about to sacrifice myself for him.”

Sanji cast a cocky grin his way. “Yeah, you’d never do something like that. This guy doesn’t know us very well at all.”

“Luffy needs me more anyway.”

“Like hell! He’d starve without me, you know that.”

Sigurd looked back and forth between them. “Uh...”

Zoro sniffed and forewent the rest of his argument for the sake of getting the visitor out of their room. “Beat it, and take your offer with you. You’re wasting your time. I have a crew and I’m not going to leave it, no matter what deals Kika wants to offer. If you want me on your ship so badly you’ll have to take me captive, and I don’t go lightly.” He held up the sheathed sword and flicked it free with his thumb. “If she wants to pay for my body in the blood of her crew, she can go right ahead. But in the end that’s all she’ll get – a useless lump of flesh that won’t obey her. I have no captain but Luffy.”

Beside him Sanji grinned a rather evil grin that hid the brief moment of inner thrill, hearing Zoro talk like that. It wasn’t just a threat, it was a promise. That entire crew would have to die before they could even hope to get the swordsman on board, and even then, he would be nothing but baggage. Sigurd understood this full well, and passed his glance over both of them once more before bobbing his head. “I’ll relay your answer to Lady Kika, then. She’ll be disappointed.”

“Tough,” Zoro snapped. “Whatever obsession she has with me, she can forget about it. The answer’s not going to change, so I’d better not hear from the lot of you again.”

“Very well. Take care with your attempts to leave this island…” Sigurd began to turn to leave, but his eyes were dark with threat as well. “It would be a shame if the Marines found out you were here.”

Wadou Ichimonji’s tip was hovering at his nose again in a heartbeat. Sanji snarled a bit under his breath. “Are you guys really such cowards that you’d tip off the Marines just because you didn’t get your way? Get the hell out of our room! If I see so much as a hair of you or your Mr. Furious pal or anyone else in your crew, I’ll break your necks!”

He didn’t leave his spot, forcing Sigurd to go to the door and let himself out. He said nothing further, and only bowed his head once more in farewell before disappearing into the shadowed hallway outside. Zoro followed to be sure he was gone, and only then slid the sword home. He latched the door with some finality and heaved a growling sigh. “Break their necks, huh?”

“Shut up,” Sanji grumbled. “It’s late, I’m tired, and I’m spent. You can’t expect me to be at my most brilliant and witty right now.”

“I don’t know, I thought it was pretty good. Different, at least.” Zoro set Wadou Ichimonji alongside its two partners and made sure all three were right against the wall by his head, so that he could arm himself out of a dead sleep in an instant. “Think they will?”

“I don’t know. We should probably keep our heads down just in case.”

“Things could get real interesting before we manage to make it off this island.”

“Yeah...” Sanji stood there a moment longer, thinking, and found himself being treated to a squeeze of Zoro’s hand to his shoulder as he passed. He lifted his head and glanced at his comrade’s back. “What?”

“Nothin’.” Zoro glanced back at him as well, smirking very faintly. “You’re not sore about what I said, are you?”

“What, about the sacrificing? Of course not,” Sanji replied sincerely. “I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for me anyway. You already tried it once and look where it got you.”

Dark eyes grew serious for a moment. Zoro held for a long pause, and then took the step or two back toward him. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” he murmured. “We both know the deal was pointless. Even if I did make it so you could get back to Sabaody, you’d just grab Luffy and turn around and come after me anyway.”

“Only because he’d pine without you.” Sanji reached up and roughly tousled the swordsman’s green hair. “I’m glad we have an understanding.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a bit of a scuffle, and then they finally find a way off Nirva Island.

Despite the late-night interruption that had them both on alert, the two pirates slept rather soundly and passed the rest of the night uneventfully. No one else came by to bother them, and there was no sign that the Kika Pirates were interested in tangling with the two notorious crewmates of Monkey D. Luffy. At least, not in the wee hours of the night while both of them were more than prepared to meet any more visitors with foot and blade. Morning found them well-rested and privately pleased that their threats had not been in vain, and after a quick wash and re-pack they were ready to continue on their way. The night’s strenuous activity had successfully worked all the fidgety energy out of Sanji, he was cool and calm and thinking much more clearly after a good shag followed by a good night’s sleep. He hadn’t forgotten his plan for where to look into safe passage, though he was now forced to permanently scratch the _Grishend_ off his list. After being visited with another even less interesting offer, he got the hint that the Kika Pirates were not worth even trying to threaten or sway. The first order of business that morning was food, so they bypassed the quays and went inland to find a place to get a decent breakfast at a nice price. Every little bit chipped away at their winnings, but this was why they had stayed so long on Esme. Of all the obstacles to overcome in their journey back to their crewmates, stinting and starving were the easiest to avoid. Mindful of that, Sanji considered picking up some non-perishables to add to their supplies, but along the way back toward the ocean all he did was window-shop and peruse. The only thing he bought was more cigarettes and bandages, considering he was going through both of those rather quickly. Zoro trailed along behind him without much care, though he glanced at the shop windows as they walked. In one, he caught the reflection of white uniforms, and quickly ducked his head so the passing Marines wouldn’t notice him. Then, Sanji smacked him in the arm. “Don’t be so jumpy. They didn’t see us.”

Zoro looked up and craned his neck to follow the pair of sailors walking down the promenade. “Does it look like they’re searching for trouble?”

Sanji followed his gaze and shrugged. “Nah. Looks like they haven’t got a clue in the world. Come on, we’ve got places to go.”

He started off in the same direction as the Marines with Zoro grumbling behind him. “I don’t even know where the hell we’re going. You mind letting me in on this plan of yours at all?”

“There’s nothing you need to know,” the cook said breezily, taking a deep drag off his cigarette. “Your job is to keep me in sight and not get your ass lost. Think you can handle that?”

“Jackass,” Zoro sniffed at him. “What are you so worried about, of course I won’t get lost.”

Despite Sanji’s assurances, both of them kept alert for any other Marines that might be active in the area they ventured through on their way to the island’s edge. Neither looked like they were, though, as Sanji smoked and cast his glance at the windows of shops and Zoro yawned and stretched. Perhaps that was why, as they came around a corner and reached the docks, their would-be attackers chose that moment to melt out of the shadows and accost them. The pair stopped short as Hervey and Sigurd stepped out from an alley right in front of them; three more pirates appeared behind him, armed and serious. Sanji rolled his head back in a gesture of annoyance. “Not this shit again.”

“Guess they need it beaten into them,” Zoro sighed. He had the duffel slung over one shoulder, and did not even move to drop it yet.

“I’m sorry it had to come to this,” Sigurd said placidly, this time clearly reaching into his coat for his throwing knives.

“No you’re not,” Zoro scoffed. “If you wanted a fight you should’ve just attacked us last night, we could’ve gotten it over with.”

“It’s not us,” Hervey said with a bit of a smirk. “Lady Kika gave the order this morning.”

“Lucky us,” Sanji said dryly. He tilted his head to the side to give Zoro a look. “Guess we have to clean this mess up before we can get on with our business.”

“Shouldn’t take too long.” Still toting the duffel, Zoro reached across and drew Shuusui with ease. One of the underlings behind him got excited and charged, but he only needed to sidestep out of the way to avoid it. Seeing as their side had officially started it, Hervey and Sigurd sighed and leaped to fight as well, and the snap of action sent passersby scattering.   
Zoro slung the bag off his shoulder and clouted the over-eager pirate in the face with it, knocking him sprawling and clearing his hand so he could draw another sword. Sanji braced himself, and then swirled around in a tight circle and kicked the legs out from under the other two behind them. He took an extra moment to make sure they wouldn’t be able to get up and ambush again, and then turned to handle the main two just as something whizzed past his face, nicking a few blond hairs from his bangs. Sanji recoiled and slid back, but recovered quickly and shot a wary look in the direction the projectile had come from. Sigurd stood back from the rest of the fray, his hand extended – he had thrown a knife, and looked displeased that it has missed its mark. Zoro and Hervey were already clashing, two swords against one, holding each other at a standstill. “You handle him,” Sanji ordered his crewmate, “I’ve got the tall guy!”

Zoro glared at him out of the corner of his eye. “What do you think I’m doing?” he growled through gritted teeth before pushing Hervey off of him and slashing at him with both swords in rapid succession. Sanji blew past him in a low stance, ducking two more knives thrown with deadly precision, and vaulted onto his hands right inside Sigurd’s guard. His feet shot straight up, delivering a powerful blow to the taller man’s chin. Even as Sigurd staggered and began to topple, Sanji righted himself and began to rain kicks to each part of his opponent’s body, flank, stomach, thigh, knees, and finishing it up with a foot to the chest that slammed him sideways into a wall. At the same time, Zoro was backing Hervey up the street with each swing and clash, driving him into a defensive position from which he couldn’t escape. The shaggy-haired pirate held his own, though, as if he had practiced fighting against two swords before. Practice, however, did not prepare him for Zoro’s sheer strength and killing determination. With two quick and precise slashes he disarmed the brash young pirate, sending his bronzed sword clattering onto the cobblestone street, and then stood over him as he yelped and stumbled and landed on his ass. Zoro didn’t need to look to see that Sanji was doing all right with his own, though his series of kicks hadn’t immediately ended that fight. Sigurd snuck a knife from inside his coat and lunged up at the cook, using the dagger as a hand-to-hand weapon, but Sanji saw it before it could slash his shirt or his skin and kicked that hand out of the way before stomping his foot hard onto the man’s forearm, crushing it against the wall. Sigurd moved to grab his leg and wrestle him down, but did not expect Sanji to use him as a springboard and vault, literally hovering in midair for a heartbeat as he brought his other foot up and drove it into his foe’s jaw. The tall pirate slumped over, dazed. Sanji spiraled gracefully out of the move and touched down lightly, the cigarette still held delicately between his lips. Zoro only glanced up to verify that it was him moving into range, now, and then returned his gaze to the other pirate he had captive at the tips of Shuusui and Kitetsu. “That was boring,” he complained. “So help me, if you guys attacked us as a delaying tactic or something and we miss the perfect ship off this island, I’ll gut every last one of you like fish.”

“Don’t insult the fish,” Sanji quipped as he came over, bending to pick up the duffel from where it lay. “Come on. Don’t even waste your breath on these idiots, let’s just get moving before someone notices there’s a fight going on.”

“You’re not leaving here until you’ve faced me.” The once-sultry female voice was cold with anger. Both Sanji and Zoro turned at the same time to regard Kika, as she stepped up past her unconscious crew to confront them. At her hips were two thin, curved swords, which she drew as she came. “And I’m not the pushover my boys are.”

“L-lady Kika,” Hervey stammered. “I’m sorry! We did our best...”

“I know. I was watching. I warned you, Hervey.” Kika’s eyes were fixed on Zoro completely, she had no time to notice anyone else. “I said if you wanted to fight these guys, you’d find out how strong they were. Get Sigurd up and get out of the way.”

Zoro met her glare with one of his own, his shoulders squaring and all his attention focusing on her – on her swords, mostly. “You ordered them to come after us, knowing they’d get their asses kicked.”

“I just wanted them to get your attention. Thanks, for not killing them. I need them to man the sails.” Kika sashayed close, her twin blades held low and wide. “You’re my real target, Roronoa. Fight me. If you have any intention of leaving this island alive, you have to go through me.”

Sanji shook his head slowly. “Now, now, my lady, there’s no reason for this. Nobody else needs to get hurt, let alone a beautiful woman such as yourself.”

“Back off, cook.” Zoro’s tone was dark, and his eyes never left his would-be opponent. “Now’s not the time for your chivalry.”

“It’s always time for my chivalry!” Sanji snapped back. “I don’t want to see you fight a lady!”

“Then don’t look.” Zoro took a step forward, committing himself to the battle. “She’s not gonna leave us alone unless I beat her. So back the hell off.”

Sanji did, but grumbled under his breath as he edged out of the way. It was up to him to keep an eye on the other two anyway, though Sigurd wasn’t moving for now and Hervey was only intent on rescuing his sword and staying out of his captain’s way. Kika and Zoro faced each other across an expanse of the cobblestone street, both carrying two swords held low in almost the same position. Zoro tilted his head forward slightly as he observed his opponent, and then let out a quiet snort. This fight would be over far too quickly for his tastes, but it couldn’t be helped. He let the twitch of a hand shifting a blade to a new angle be the signal that she should attack him, and so she did. She charged, bringing her thin blades up straight forward as if to skewer him, but he deflected with one step back and a lazy swipe. A flurry of piercing attacks came at him, almost faster than most eyes could follow, but Zoro had fought far stronger opponents and could read the strikes in plenty of time to counter. He braced his feet and let his arms do most of the work, flicking Shuusui and Kitetsu in short, smooth arcs to block and parry every single strike. Kika drew back and then lunged with a powerful double-swing that sent a familiar flying slice at him, so Zoro raised his arms and countered it with an identical move that negated the rush of cutting air before it could connect. He just stood there while she threw herself at him, using moves that clearly were effective against the small fries that stuck to this region of the Grand Line but were no match against someone of Zoro’s caliber. She was fast, at least, and if she could break his guard she could have cut him to ribbons quickly with the lightweight sabers – but therein lay the problem. Zoro was simply more than her match, and barely broke a sweat fending off her repeated attacks. He did not even need to draw Wadou Ichimonji, let alone put on his serious face and his bandanna. Far from pleased, though, he wore a frown that steadily grew to a narrow glare of annoyance the longer this went on. When he’d seen enough, he glared and suddenly went on the attack, rushing her before she could regain her balance and swinging hard. Kika’s crossed swords caught his briefly, but she strained under the power of it and was soon sent reeling backwards. Zoro did not let up, getting in close and using both blades together as one to disarm her without any special moves. Kika stood stunned as the two swords came in close to her neck, and then glared back at him. “You bastard,” she breathed. “You were just toying with me.”

“We don’t have time for this bullshit,” Zoro said in a low, threatening tone. “Tell me what you want with me.”

“You already know.”

“Give it up, already!” Zoro snarled. “I don’t follow a captain who’s weaker than me. Why are you so damned insistent that I join your crew? By rights I should be your captain now.”

“Don’t you dare!” Hervey had recovered himself enough to charge Zoro’s back, but Sanji came flying from the left and plowed a foot into the side of the young man’s face, knocking him down on the ground and the sword out of his hand again.

The attempted avenging made Kika glower even harder at her opponent, who still held her at swordpoint. “Defeating me isn’t enough, you have to humiliate me in front of my crew.”

Zoro growled and pulled his swords back to leave her some breathing room. “Look, lady, I’m not the one who’s humiliating you. I don’t want your damn ship or your crew anyway, I’m just saying – you know that most pirates would take them if they could beat you like I just did. You’re only embarrassing yourself.” He felt so little threat from any of them, even the ones stirring on the ground beyond them or the much weaker crew members peeping out from alleys, that he sheathed his blades and stood there with fists clenched instead. “You’re really starting to piss me off, you know that? We’re leaving now. Don’t bother us again or I’ll kill you.”

“Zoro!” Sanji hissed. He knew from watching that these pirates weren’t a serious threat, unless they were to tip off the Marines on the island, but he still didn’t want to see the fine lady killed.

His comrade turned his back on Kika and strode over to him, angrily grabbing the duffel that had fallen back on the ground. “Piss off, cook, I’m in no mood right now.”

“Wait!” Kika called out. It wasn’t a desperate cry, she still maintained a shred of her regal, aloof composure, but her eyes burned with anger and her shout got their attention. “I’ll give you passage,” she finally said, deflating. “I’ll take you to Sabaody Archipelago. If you’ll train me.”

“Eh...?” Zoro turned and frowned in confusion at her. “More conditions?”

Kika attempted to hold his gaze, though she started to shake with the effort of keeping her frustration in check. “I want you to make me a better fighter. If I can’t have you in my crew then at least give me two days – that’s how long it’ll take the _Grishend_ to sail to Sabaody in fair weather.”

Zoro stared for a long moment and then turned his shoulder stubbornly away. “No.”

Without warning Sanji kicked him in the head – or attempted to. An arm came up and blocked his foot from connecting. “What the hell are you doing?!” the cook raged. “We just got the break we needed and you turn it _down?_ ”

“I’m not going to do it,” Zoro said flatly.

“Why not?”

“I have my reasons.”

“Roronoa Zoro!” Kika challenged from where she stood, swordless. “Why won’t you teach me? I’m offering exactly what you want!”

The swordsman shouldered the duffel bag and kept his back to her. “Because I’m not going to give you what _you_ want. I don’t know what your issue is, but I’m not going to fix it for you. If you’re so concerned about getting stronger, do it on your own.”

The captain bristled where she stood, hands curling into fists. “And how am I to do that with no one to teach me? And no strong opponents, now that you’ve taken out the worst one in these waters.”

Zoro glanced back. “The same way the rest of us do – by living.” His expression hardened; he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of learning anything from him, but he had a few things that needed to be said regardless. “If you want to be a pirate, be a damn pirate. Stop slinking off every time the Marines show up, and turning tail whenever somebody strong blows into these waters. Fight or die, those are your only choices. If you won’t fight, then just die so somebody else can come up behind you and do what you’re too scared to do.”

Beside him, Sanji turned to face Kika directly. He waited a few moments to let those words sink in, for even he deemed them too important to ignore, and he could see the effect they had on the lady. “Is there no chance of sailing to Sabaody, without anything in trade from us?” he wondered, gently but firmly.

Kika averted her gaze sharply. “I can’t risk it,” she said softly. “The Marine presence there has doubled since the war at Marineford...”

Zoro harrumphed loudly at that. “See? I told you. You can’t even be bothered to challenge the Marines, what the hell makes you think you can be any kind of pirate captain in this age? Come on, cook.” He started off without waiting for Sanji. “We’ll find some other way.”

Dubious, Sanji looked from him to Kika, who still stood with her head bowed, too ashamed to look at them. Hervey limped up to her to support her, but most of the rest of the crew remained in hiding, cowed by the power of the two Straw Hats. It was clear there would be no further persuasion or argument, there was too much pride and fear keeping the crew of the _Grishend_ from aiding them at all. How the promise of being trained for only two days would overcome that fear, he didn’t understand, but he agreed with Zoro to a point – and two days were not nearly enough for him to even begin to whip anyone into shape. She was already stronger than the entire crew of the ship that had rescued them from the pink island, well beyond the help of a crash course. None of her motives or moves made any sense to him, clearly there was some reason behind it all which she kept to herself. Shrugging it off, Sanji turned on his heel and followed Zoro away. He had deep doubts that they’d find a better offer, but there was no more chance of persuading Zoro to change his mind than there was of appealing to Kika at this point. The proverbial rock and hard place, one of which was Zoro’s head. Sanji considered beating it for a while, but that wouldn’t get him anywhere either. Puffing away on his cigarette, he caught up to his crewmate and accompanied him toward the harbor as they had earlier planned, leaving Kika and her pirates behind.

 

In spite of threats made to the effect, it didn’t seem that the Marines had been alerted to the high bounties walking around freely on Nirva Island. There sure were a lot of them, though, mostly clustered around an eastward harbor not far from the spit with the lighthouse. It didn’t take long for Sanji to notice that a number of the pirate ships sheltering at the northern quays had quietly slipped out to sea either overnight or that morning, obviously in response to the slowly increasing numbers of Marines making landfall. That meant a number of their potential options were also slipping away, and the only ones left were proper law-abiding ships tied up in the same harbor with the warships and transports. Lurking around there was infinitely more dangerous, but a necessity now. Sanji was still irked with Zoro for so baldly turning down the best offer yet for a fast pirate ship to take them straight to their destination, but he knew there was no talking him into it. If he didn’t want to test and train Lady Kika, no bribe, no cajoling, and no threat would change his mind. It occurred to the cook that the only reason she agreed to take them there was because they would be on board if the Marines managed to waylay the _Grishend_ – she was hoping they would protect her if she helped them. He didn’t have quite the strict belief in pirate ethics that his crewmate did, but even Sanji disliked the thought that anyone declaring themselves a pirate and flying a skull flag would be so afraid as to hide behind the bounties and reputations of two men not even in their crew. It put him in mind of far weaker pirates back in the East Blue, and that left a nasty taste in his mouth. Cowards and fools were a dime a dozen, he didn’t like the thought that the beautiful lady who clearly commanded a loyal following was one of those. But then, if she was right, getting to Sabaody was going to be harder than he realized. If the increase in ships and enlisted men they carried was any indication, the archipelago was probably crawling with them, waiting for Straw Hat Luffy and his crew to show their faces. They were going to be walking straight into the lion’s den.

The pair of pirates walked the length of the harbor having a look at all the ships, doing their best to keep a low profile and seem like just another couple of civilians. Wherever the white uniforms were thickest, they strayed to one side or another and cautiously kept from making eye contact with anyone who might recognize them. Far too many people lately had known them on sight from the bounty posters, these waters were already dangerous enough to the notorious without adding Marines on top of that. Between the two of them Zoro stood out more because of his swords, but it was always possible that people might be ignorant of his particular style. It had happened before. All the same, neither did anything to call attention to themselves, communicating mostly with nods, glances, and silent gestures as they navigated the island and hunted for their chance. It was starting to near noontime, and their chances didn’t look good at all. They grabbed some food from a street vendor and found a place to hunker down so they could eat and consult one another. Squeezed into a small space between a mountain of cargo crates and a wall, they murmured to each other where it was safe enough not to be overheard. It took all of Sanji’s willpower not to snipe at Zoro over the missed opportunity. “Things aren’t looking good,” he mused darkly.

“Where the hell did all these damn Marines come from?” Zoro groused. “I know there were a few yesterday but it’s like they’ve multiplied.”

“Captain Egan did say there’d be a lot on Nirva, though, didn’t he?”

“I don’t know.” Zoro didn’t bother to remember, although it did come to mind that the merchant captain had warned him that keeping the secret of the two pirates he had harbored would be more valuable than beli. The swordsman was starting to agree with that assessment. He craned his neck to peer up over one of the crates, but ducked down quickly when some Marine crewmen came by, chatting loudly. “What are we going to do?”

“We don’t have a lot of options anymore,” Sanji said with a glare for him. “We have enough money to get another hotel room but I’m sick of this. And we can’t keep pushing our luck. One or the other will run out soon enough, and either way we’re going to find ourselves in the wrong clutches.”

Zoro glared back. “If you’re trying to guilt me into going back to her, you can save your breath. I said no and that’s that.”

“So you said,” Sanji sighed. “I’m not going to argue with you. I’m just going to point out that it’s better to accept the terms now with your pride intact, rather than wait another week and go back begging because we’re out of money and time.”

“It’s not about pride,” Zoro hissed. “Never mind, you won’t understand.”

“I understand better than you think.” Sanji sat back with his back against a crate, resting his elbows on his knees. “Because of your damn stubbornness, we’re going to be stuck here. I suppose I should be grateful it’s not the pink island…this one seems civilized enough, except for all the damn Marines...”

Zoro nearly lit into him, but a rise in voices nearby made them both hush and press their backs against the crates to stay hidden. Fortunately, Sanji was not smoking at the moment, so as long as they were silent there was nothing to give them away. By their tone and accent, it had to be two Marines on the other side of the crates. “All this still has to go on board?” one asked. “What are they stocking up for, a trip to the New World?”

“Nah, it’s because supplies are thin at Sabaody,” the other answered. “There’s only so many ships the base can supply, and they’ve had double the traffic lately.”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard about that,” the first complained. “So we’re taking on extra cargo here instead. All right, I’ll find some more hands to get this done. What’s the hurry, anyway? We have to be off today?”

“New orders came down,” the other said briskly. “We’re being sent to intercept a pirate ship.”

Both Sanji and Zoro tensed, hearing that. The first voice, belonging to a cargo supervisor, sounded vaguely amused. “Just any old pirate ship, or a specific one?”

“Eh…now don’t go telling everybody this,” the other said, “but...” He paused, and when he spoke again his voice was both quieter and closer to the stack of crates, as if he’d pulled his companion aside in secret. “Word is they spotted Trafalgar Law’s ship heading toward Sabaody. We’re being sent to intercept him if possible, pursue otherwise.”

“No kidding!” The cargo supervisor was appropriately impressed. “That’s a hell of a mission. You sure about this?”

“The major told me directly,” the other Marine insisted. “So that’s right, you’d better get this cargo loaded double-time. The quicker we’re out of here, the better chance we have of actually getting there ahead of Law and bringing him in.”

“Ooh, there’s gonna be a fight for sure.” There was a clap as of hands being rubbed excitedly together. “Got it, I’m on it – sir,” the cargo man added belatedly.

With that the two Marines broke up and went their separate ways. Sanji turned to his crewmate. “Law was seen at Marineford with Luffy!” he breathed eagerly. “The paper said so!”

Zoro likewise turned his head to meet his gaze. “This is crazy. This is crazier than falling in with the Kika Pirates.”

“Do you want to stay here another day?”

Zoro made a face – a clear no. “How the hell are we even going to get on board?”

“Leave that to me.” Sanji was undaunted by the ridiculousness of the idea. He had every confidence in being able to infiltrate the Marine ship, so long as he could keep Zoro from succumbing to bad luck and getting himself found out prematurely. He sat up in order to peek over the crates and verify which ship they were supposed to go to. It was one of the bigger warships, docked very close by and swarming with men in white uniforms going about the business of preparing to sail. A ship that size likely had a large crew who didn’t always know each other by name or even on sight; _of course_ , Sanji realized, _that’s why there’s so much cargo. A crew that size needs to be fed and kept on long journeys._ He sat back down and fixed Zoro with a square look. “If we do this, you need to listen to me and do what I say so we don’t get caught. Got it?”

Zoro assuredly did not like being told what to do, but he also knew his crewmate to have a keen tactical mind. He only frowned for a moment before nodding his assent. It might have been crazy, but it was their best hope right now. A guarantee of a ship headed straight for the same place they wanted to go. “What if they don’t stop, though, and go right on hunting for Law’s ship?” he murmured.

“We’ll worry about that when the time comes,” Sanji replied. “First we have to get on the ship without being spotted. And then find a place to stow away. Once that’s good and done we’ll worry about the rest.” He grabbed the duffel and began rummaging through it, and then tossed out nearly half of the clothes they had brought from Kamabakka – all the stuff they wouldn’t need anymore, packed “just in case” for not knowing the weather on the islands they would hop to. They were close enough to their destination that they could lighten the load and make it easier. He then took off the backpack and stuffed it inside the half-empty duffel, followed by his suitcoat and tie. “Your job is to make sure this gets on board one way or another,” he said quietly. “And follow me without question.”

Zoro nodded again to say he understood and agreed. Without wasting any more time, Sanji peeped over the crates to make sure the coast was clear, and then gestured for the swordsman to follow him. He ducked out and almost immediately straightened up, casually melting into the crowd of passersby who also had business to conduct in the harbor. Zoro stuck close to him, toting the duffel over his shoulder. Sanji roamed almost idly, hands in his pockets, nodding now and then to a fellow pedestrian and charmingly greeting women they passed. It was a means to disarm the locals, to pass for one of them and blend in, until he reached a certain point. He slid into a covert spot and grabbed Zoro’s arm to make sure he followed, and the two of them instantly vanished from the meandering crowds as if they had never been there. From there, it was a short sneak along the back side of another ship to a position much closer to the Marine warship, hidden from view of all yet affording a glimpse of the easiest route into the cargo hold. The huge vessel had its main cargo hatch wide open, a yawning black chasm into the bowels of the ship, and crewmen were coming and going in due order, carting items in and coming back out empty-handed. Sanji crouched behind some bales of spare sail canvas, calculating his strategy in silence, while Zoro kept lookout on his other side. The natural inclination was to nab a couple of sailors who weren’t paying attention, knock them out and steal their uniforms, but doing so put them at the risk of being separated and having to pose as Marines far longer than would be safe. Never mind that Zoro sucked at pretending to be anything he wasn’t. Then he saw it – a cart laden with sacks and crates piled at least as high as both of them, if not more. The cargo supervisor from earlier was shouting commands at the men pulling the cart, who were all concentrating with their heads down in order to put their backs into it and drag the over-burdened thing into the hold in one go. As time-savers went, it wasn’t very effective, but it did provide an obvious piece of cover for anyone wanting to sneak in. Sanji whispered his plan in Zoro’s ear and, at the right moment, gestured for him to follow as he stole across the stony pier and dove underneath the cart wheels. The both of them crouching beneath the wagon was a tight squeeze, and they had to inch along at the same slow pace as the men dragging it, at least until Zoro stood up enough to put his shoulder against the bottom and push it along himself. The additional manpower gave them just enough boost to pick up speed, though the Marines never figured out where it came from and patted themselves on the back for their prowess later. Once it rolled into the relative darkness of the cargo hold, the two pirates ducked out from underneath and made their way from one box or barrel to the next, avoiding notice as they snuck deeper and deeper into the hold. Lamps were lit everywhere to facilitate the moving, stacking, and proper organization of cargo, but in between them were pools of deep shadow perfect for staying hidden. Neither really knew much about the layout of laden Marine ships, but when they got as far as the stairwells leading up to the crew decks, Sanji stopped and turned around, leading his comrade back into the hold proper. Zoro started to ask if he knew what he was doing, but Sanji stifled him with a hand clapped over his mouth, pushing him back against the wall. A pair of Marines hurried by, but didn’t see them there in the shadows. Once the coast was clear, Sanji warned his comrade with a stern look and a shake of his head, and then waved him along. There were some better hiding spots closer to the hold gate, and pretty soon they’d be closing that down anyway. They crept in behind sacks of flour and rice and crouched down to wait, Zoro hugging the duffel between his knees.

It wasn’t too much longer before the huge door in the side of the ship creaked shut, and the shaft of daylight splashing into the ship gradually faded until it disappeared with the clang and thud of the gate slamming shut. There were a few more shouts as the Marines worked to secure the door against the sea’s intrusion, though if they did their jobs right the cargo door shouldn’t ever drop beneath the waves. Non-essential lamps were put out, leaving only a string of them up the center of the hold leading to the stairs. In time, even the voices died away, and after a muffled clunk as of a door shutting somewhere in the distance, the entire hold fell silent. Still the pirates waited, listening, until the scratch of a match and flare of a flame announced that Sanji considered it safe enough to light a cigarette. Zoro glanced at him, but his blond hair hid his eyes and most of his expression. He took a light drag of smoke and finally said the first words between them in at least an hour, in a barely-audible murmur. “Looks like we did it.”

“Ship hasn’t left port yet,” Zoro returned in the same murmur.

Sanji hummed a quiet agreement, and then eased himself to a comfortable seat, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “Should stay put until it does. The crew’ll be busy when that happens, no one will be down here.”

Zoro nodded and did not reply, needing no more words to disturb the near-darkness. He likewise folded his legs beneath him and settled down, shoving the bag over out of the way and pulling his swords free to rest against his shoulder. Both were waiting for the same thing, and patiently kept vigil until they felt it – the sense of movement, the tug and pull of the ship pushing away from the pier and taking to open water. They were not close enough to the hull to hear the sounds that went with it, but the sensation was familiar enough. Both knew it well. Sanji lounged back and indulged his smoking with relish, smirking to himself. He was quite pleased with how it all turned out, and now they were free to say they had successfully snuck aboard a Marine warship and stowed away in the cargo hold. They were as good as home, so to speak, Sabaody was dead ahead with no stops in between. Of course, in the meantime the trick was to stay stowed away and not get caught, or all those crewmen on the decks above them would take great delight in collecting their combined bounties. To that end, Sanji suddenly got up and looked around, checking things out from his vantage point before wading off between sacks and crates of food and other supplies. He wanted to explore the cargo hold fully, and choose the ideal hiding place for them to pass a couple of days unseen and unheard. After a minute Zoro decided to go along, mostly because there was nothing else to do.

While the deck serving as the warship’s cargo hold wasn’t nearly as large as a merchant ship’s, like the _Flying Serpent_ , the size of its crew and the length of its usual journeys required a lot of supplies and the room to carry them. In addition to the foodstuffs they would need in the immediate future, there were stashes of staples for long-term travel, and supplies to repair the ship should it take damage in battle, up to and including new sails and mechanical parts for the plumbing and galley. The forward end of the hold was a jumble of such stacks, piled high in some organizational manner known only to the Marines. Further astern, near the stairs that led up to the crew decks, there was a section split off by walls – rooms, separated from the main hold by a series of nondescript doors. One held additional food, one had toiletry supplies for the bathrooms and cleaning jobs, and still another contained a number of shelves bearing piles of neatly-folded spare uniforms. They found some special delicacies and secret officers’ lockers down here as well, and considered raiding them if they had the opportunity. The furthest-back room was refrigerated, for the perishable food supplies. Sanji inspected all of these rooms and nicked a few things they could use, like towels and a bucket and matches and whatnot, but in the end decided against hiding in any one of them because they were too small, and there was no secondary way out. If spotted in one of those rooms, they would be cornered and captured for sure. Plucking a spare lantern from the maintenance room, he carried it along back into the wide open main hold as he had a closer look at how everything was arranged and organized. Far forward and to the port side there was an area where crates were stacked almost to the ceiling, and with just a few small adjustments, would make a perfect fortress for stowaways. Both pirates got down to it, taking advantage of the ship’s movement to mask any noise they would make shoving crates around and repositioning sacks of rice and milled wheat. In almost no time at all they had created a nest for themselves in this out-of-the-way corner far from the main aisle that ran up the center of the deck, comprised primarily of supplies that shouldn’t be necessary on a normal voyage of the length planned between Nirva and Sabaody. Sanji stood back with hands on hips to approve of their handiwork. “So. They said it would take a fast ship like the _Grishend_ two days to get there. I’d count on this one to take more like three, if all goes well. We can manage three days in this little hole.”

Zoro set his swords against a crate and flopped down onto the skillfully-arranged mattress they had made out of spare sailcloth. “Heh. You’ve got it all worked out and we’re barely underway,” he mused, clasping his hands behind his head. “All that’s left now is to hang out and wait.”

“Oi, it’s not a vacation,” Sanji warned. “We’re going to have to take it in turns to keep watch, since there’s no way to know when and how often the crew will be coming down here to fetch stuff. And there’s no way for me to cook anything, so we’ll have to live off of raw foods. Fruit and such.”

“Eh. Small price to pay.” Zoro tipped his head in order to peer up at his comrade. “How are we gonna know how much time has passed and when we reach Sabaody? Besides feeling the ship come to a stop.”

“I’m still thinking about that.” Sanji stubbed out his cigarette butt and curled up in a seat on the floor near to the other, repositioning the little lantern they had nicked. It was their only light in this corner, now that arranging the cargo into a cave hid them from the lamps elsewhere. “It’s probably going to come down to disguising as Marines and going topside to have a look around, but that’ll come later. For now, we just have to work on staying unnoticed.”

“Easy enough.” Zoro rolled over and put his back to Sanji. “I’m going to take a nap.”

Sanji frowned at him, but he knew there was no point in arguing. This was going to be the most boring trip of them all, and naps pass the time quite nicely. He wasn’t the least bit sleepy, though, and just sat there ruing the fact that he hadn’t had a chance to prepare for this, to pick up a book or even a newspaper. It was too late now, and he wasn’t stupid enough to try to steal personal effects from the sailors’ barracks above them. A few minutes later and he could hear Zoro’s soft snoring, indicating that he had passed easily into slumber without a care in the world. For his part, Sanji curled up with his back to the wall of crates protecting them and gazed absently at the flicker of flame in the oil lamp, his thoughts turning inward until they passed into a sleepless daydream of getting back to the archipelago and the ship, meeting up with the others, toasting their safe return and raising sail to escape right from under the noses of the Marines. It was a nice daydream, but he no longer had any idea whether it was remotely close to reality. Were any of the others already there ahead of them, waiting? Where _was_ Luffy? What if they were the first back instead of the last, what then? Had Rayleigh actually coated the ship yet, or was he waiting for them to show signs of being alive to come back for it as promised? There were so many questions, and worries, and the longer he sat there in the dull silence, even more came to mind. At that point, he remembered something important, and dug around in his pockets until he found it. The little scrap of paper, the one not to be confused with anything else, the one that needed to be protected above all, was safely stowed in his tobacco purse inside the box of waterproof matches. He plucked it out and set it on his knee. Sure enough, it inched forward, toward the bow of the ship – they were headed in the right direction to meet the owner of the Vivre card after all. He realized, then, that they could use their scraps of Vivre card to tell them whether they were still on course. It couldn’t indicate how close they were to the destination, or at what time they might make landfall, but it reassured him that they were on the proper heading. Breathing a soft sigh of relief, Sanji nabbed the paper before it could slide off his knee and put it back in its safe spot. Since Zoro was already asleep, that meant he had to stay awake and keep watch, in case someone came down into the cargo hold. Despite the configuration of their fortress, he planned to shutter the lamp at the first sign of movement out in the hold just in case. His worries for the rest of the crew were too much, so he shoved them to the back of his mind and went over and over his plans for successfully evading capture instead. It wasn’t very entertaining, but it kept him alert for the first leg of the journey.

Being a Marine warship, there was a diligently-kept schedule in place for the changing of shifts and the serving of meals. Dinner and breakfast were exactly on time, the same time every day, which necessitated the kitchen staff coming down for supplies early enough to cook and serve on schedule. The first time they came down, they remained far enough away that even though Sanji covered the lantern, there wasn’t any chance anyone would notice the stowaways. He held his breath and listened cautiously, and relaxed only when he heard that distant thump of a door closing again. Not too long after that Zoro woke up and complained about being hungry, so the cook took it on himself to prowl around the fresher foodstuffs and scrounge out some fruits, vegetables, and cheese that they could eat without having to cook or prepare. The only water to be had was packed away in an emergency survival kit which Zoro actually found while digging around looking for ideas on how to get off the ship once they got where they were going. He would have preferred booze, but not even the officers’ lockers had so much as a cherished bottle of wine stored away. It was probably all up in their cabins. They weren’t going to starve, at least, and would probably suffer crushing boredom before anything else. Sanji had more than enough cigarettes to last him, but he refrained from smoking too often because he didn’t want anyone coming downstairs and getting suspicious at the scent. So early in the journey, there wasn’t much if any reason to come to the cargo hold outside of mealtimes, so it was safe for the pirates to be moving around and talking all they wanted. After the dinner visit there was nothing, to which Sanji remarked that whoever was on watch needed to note the next time someone came down, because that would mean breakfast, and the passing of a day. They amused themselves exploring for a bit, but then Sanji finally felt tired enough to sleep and threw himself down on the sailcloth mattress. Zoro was wide awake and ready to keep watch, and all while his comrade snoozed he exercised, starting with push-ups and eventually finding a rafter nearby with which he could do chin-ups. He felt like he was finally healed enough from his past injuries to exert himself as normal, for by doing so he hoped to regain any strength or stamina lost by having to recover for such a long time. He worked up quite a sweat, for there was little fresh airflow down in the cargo hold, and only came to sit back down and rest when he got bored of the dead silence. His crewmate was still asleep, so Zoro mopped his face with his shirt and then put on a fresh one, finding his red-and-white striped shirt stuffed down deep in the bag and deciding it would do. Sanji had washed the blood from it while on Kamabakka, it was good to go. Refreshed, Zoro repacked the bag so he wouldn’t get bitched at later, and then crouched for a moment gazing at the cook. He slept mostly on his back with an arm laid loosely on his chest, as if to protect his injury, though the fighting that morning had proven that he was more or less recovered by now. Zoro studied him to be sure and then found a place to sit for a while, between Sanji’s head and the wall of crates. He propped the lantern up on the lip of one of the boxes that jutted out to form a tiny shelf, so he could reach it quickly in need. Sanji didn’t move at all despite the rustling going on very near to him, a fact which emboldened Zoro enough to reach out and thread his fingers through blond hair. He normally wasn’t so tactile, nor interested in expressions of affection (obvious or otherwise), but lately he had been feeling more like indulging and didn’t really care to find a reason behind it. He wasn’t the type to fret over either his actions or his feelings, at least in this particular regard. He sat there combing his fingers through Sanji’s hair because he felt like it, end of story. The only time he hesitated was when the cook stirred, but he only rolled over and nestled his head comfortably against Zoro’s thigh without coming fully awake, and then kept on slumbering.

Another brief intrusion of the Marine crew told them when morning had actually come and breakfast was due to be made up in the galley, signaling that they, too, could find something to eat and stretch their legs. Neither of them could really take sitting still for long periods of time, they were the type to be carrying too much pent-up energy regardless of what might be going on around them. The middle of the night might have been a safer time to roam around but it didn’t matter, they had to move around to stay limber and to combat boredom. Always keeping an ear out for someone to be coming down into the cargo hold, the two pirates walked laps around the open aisles between cargo and climbed around looking for anything interesting they might have overlooked before. There wasn’t anything. Time inched by slowly, and they had given up and gone back to their nest to laze around well before the deck hatch opened again and several Marines came down into the hold. Zoro reached to shutter the lamp and accidentally snuffed it out, plunging their corner into complete darkness. Sanji grabbed for him to keep him from making any more noise, and ended up holding him down as they crouched in the corner behind the boxes, barely breathing. The Marines, at least, were loud and stomped everywhere they went as they hunted through the cargo for something specific. For all their yelling and laughing across the length of the deck, it wasn’t clear exactly what they were trying to root out of the piles. One passed just to the other side of the stowaways’ hiding place, they could hear him clearly and see hints of the glow of whatever lamp or flashlight he was carrying as he swept it back and forth. Before he could get close enough to wonder why the cargo crates were stacked the way they were, one of the others called out from far to the other end, and the Marine went to join him and give him a hand. Sanji and Zoro remained frozen in place, the former splayed across the latter, pressing him up against the crate-wall, until the stamping and shouting finally ceased. By then their eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough to see the top of their fortress backlit by distant lamps, though the corner itself and the two of them were still cloaked in pitch-blackness. As if the brief scare weren’t bad enough, the closeness of their bodies had heated Sanji up, and he now tried to squash down the moment of thrill as he peeled himself off Zoro and groped around for the lantern. To his credit, if Zoro noticed, he didn’t say anything about it. He sat still and listened, instead. “It can’t already be dinnertime again, can it?” he wondered in a low voice.

“It’s impossible to know how much time has passed down here,” Sanji grumbled as he hunted for the lamp. Fortunately, he didn’t have far to grope before his elbow knocked against it. A second later he realized he could make this whole thing easier and pulled the lighter out of his pocket. He held up the tiny flame just long enough to verify that he had found their lamp, and then had to flick it alive again in order to relight the oil wick. At last! The cook sat up with a sigh of relief and then smacked his comrade in the chest. “Clumsy idiot. You’re lucky none of the oil spilled.”

“Not being seen was kind of more important at the moment,” Zoro said, peering.

“Well, here we are again. And no, I don’t think it’s that late.” Sanji rested his elbows on his knees and took out a cigarette to celebrate the close call. “Sooner or later one of us is going to have to risk taking a peek.”

A lazy grin slowly spread across the swordsman’s face. “That was kind of exciting. I was all ready to grab my swords and everything.”

“Tch...” Sanji snorted around his cigarette. “You know better than to start something down here. We’ll make it to Sabaody all right – in chains, with a free pass to Impel Down.”

“I know, that’s why I didn’t!” Zoro insisted. “I’m not stupid.”

The cook smirked widely, but didn’t make the obvious crack. “What, are you so bored that a few Marines doing their jobs is the most excitement you can get?”

“Well...” Zoro grinned back, sly as a fox. “All the other things I could do to pass the time make too much noise.”

A curled eyebrow raised at him. “You ever tried holding a conversation?”

The return expression was suspicious. “Are you saying you want to _talk_?”

“Not like that!” Sanji shifted to face him, crossing his legs beneath him. “You make it sound like I want to have some kind of serious discussion about feelings or something. I _meant_ small talk, dumbass. You can do that without raising your voice, can’t you?”

“As long as you stop calling me dumbass,” Zoro shot back. “I might have to raise my voice if you take too much joy in insulting me.”

“Take it easy,” Sanji warned, lest they actually start shouting at each other. He sat quietly smoking for a bit, head drooping and gaze absently focused on the floor between the two of them.

Zoro looked at him and then shrugged. “So let’s have some small talk, then. It’s your idea.”

“Keep your pants on, I’m thinking.” Sanji scratched the back of his neck. “It’s not like we have shit to catch up on, we’ve been more or less stuck to each other for the last couple of weeks.”

“No shit.” Zoro looked away and then back again. “How long since we changed your bandages?”

“Uh...too long, probably.” For lack of anything better to do at that moment, Sanji began unbuttoning his shirt. “I’d much rather be done with them completely, I’m feeling much better than I was when you punched me in the chest.”

Zoro scooted over to help him while reaching for the bag that held their supplies. “You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”

“Of course not.” Sanji peeled open his shirt and began unwrapping the bandages, which had done their job well enough even though he thought Chopper would have done a better job. His crewmate came in very close, then, to see how the wound was healing, but hadn’t grabbed the lamp that was just out of arm’s reach. He pushed at Sanji’s shoulder, but the cook stiffened at the gesture. “What?”

“Lay down, I want to see how it looks.” Zoro fixed him with an unimpressed expression at the look he was getting for making that suggestion. “I’m not going to jump you this time, I just want to see it in better light,” he said sharply.

Sanji eyed him suspiciously for a moment longer and then reluctantly let himself lie back on the makeshift bed of sailcloth. Zoro crawled alongside him and leaned over him, prodding with very gentle fingers at the stitches to see if it was safe to leave the bandages off. From the uncertain frown he made, Sanji guessed that the answer was no. He gestured to the duffel bag. “I nabbed some new bandages from in here, the nice stick-on kind.”

Zoro found them and, though it wasn’t like the cook couldn’t take care of it himself, went about peeling back the tape and sticking it to cover the wound. Now Sanji wouldn’t have to deal with a wrap constricting his chest. As if to relish that very thing, Sanji took a few deep breaths while laying there and then sat up before his comrade could get any funny ideas, finally returning the cigarette to his lips. “Thanks,” he murmured.

“I’m too nice to you,” Zoro complained, tossing the bag aside and making himself comfortable with his back against the wall.

“That’s a bad thing?” Sanji smoothed his hand over the bandage to reassure himself that it was well-placed and then buttoned his shirt back up. “I’m not going to tell anyone and ruin your reputation, relax.”

Zoro gazed silently at him for a long moment, and then made a small noise under his breath. “No one’s going to know anything about this whole ordeal,” he realized. “As far as the others know, we just happened to run into each other and caught a ship back, the end.”

“They might like to hear how we snuck onboard a Marine warship and got away scott-free,” Sanji shrugged. “As long as you don’t try to spice up the story by starting a fight here.”

He was feeling lazy, so Zoro just raised a hand and flipped Sanji off for that. “I’m not telling Luffy that some other pirates tried to recruit me,” he noted, then. “Not that he’d freak out, but he just doesn’t need to know.”

“If you decide to tell any stories, I’m begging you, Zoro – don’t tell them about the island where you found me,” Sanji said with all seriousness. “That place was a nightmare. I keep worrying that I’ll wake up and find that this is all a dream and I’m still back there, stuck there with no way off.”

Zoro tipped his head back against the wall. His eyes were calm and dark in the lamplight. “It’s not my place to go running at the mouth about every little thing we did or place we went.” He may not have understood Sanji’s panic – well, he had guesses as to the why but he thought it was a stupid reason – but he wasn’t about to shame him in front of the others by revealing anything about it. If the cook wanted them to know where he had been sent by Kuma, he would tell them himself. “Besides,” he added, diverting the topic slightly, “nobody would believe us if we said we got to be pretty good friends through all this.”

Sanji chuckled softly. “No, that’s probably the least believable part of it all. Come now, _marimo_ , don’t tell lies.”

Likewise, Zoro laughed a little, and the sound of their mingled laughter in the stillness of the cargo hold seemed strange and foreign.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Passing the time while stowing away can be done in many different ways.

For many more long hours the stowaways waited out the trip with growing impatience, for they had exhausted nearly every route of entertainment and took turns sleeping while the other watched, and didn’t know what else they could possibly do with themselves. Zoro exercised, Sanji walked and paced and stretched his legs, they sat and talked, they restocked their supplies more than once, they even raided the storage room that held some special lockers and pilfered someone’s pack of playing cards. That was as daring as they got, though, for too much activity and too many missing items would alert the crew that someone might be thieving, requiring a guard to stand watch over the cargo between meal hours. While it was his turn to keep watch, Sanji sat thinking about how best to go about trying to infiltrate the deck above just to find out how much time was passing and how close they were to their destination. He mulled over a few possible ways of disembarking from a moving ship, just in case they reached Sabaody and found the ship was not going to dock, and checked the Vivre card once more. Everything looked fine. By the time both he and his comrade had gotten some sleep and were having another cold, bland meal in their quiet little corner, he had come to the conclusion that they had lost track of time and really couldn’t be sure that the noise and activity at the other end of the hold a short time earlier meant breakfast of another day. Their only choice for reorienting themselves with the date and time was for one of them to do something brave and stupid, and Sanji decided it would be him. “You’re a clumsy oaf who’ll reveal himself the second someone makes a crack about pirates behind his back,” he reasoned as he trudged up the aisle toward the stairs. “Face it, I’m better at this.”

Though he knew it to be true, Zoro protested on the grounds that he was bored and wanted some action. “Yeah, and the second you spot a female Marine you’re going to be all over her,” he complained, “and get your ass captured just the same.”

“Not likely,” Sanji assured. “It’d be nice if there were some ladies in this crew, but I can still keep from getting caught.” He had changed into a nondescript t-shirt from their baggage, all the better to facilitate any disguise, and now took a moment to duck into the storeroom that contained the spare uniforms. He pulled on a Marine shirt and hastily tied a kerchief around his collar, and then topped it off with one of the visor caps pulled down over his eyes. It hid his telltale eyebrow nicely. He presented himself to Zoro, sly grin and goatee the only things really showing below the shadows of the cap. “What do you think, do I pass?”

Zoro shrugged noncommittally. “Just get up there and get the job done.”

Sanji smacked him on the shoulder as he passed and headed for the stairs that led upward to a large trap-door in the floor of the deck above. “Keep an ear out. If there’s trouble, you’ll know,” he warned before gesturing with a finger to his lips to stay quiet. He crept up the plank stairs and tested the door by pushing very slightly against it. If it turned out to be bolted shut from the other side, all of this would be in vain. The door gave, though, permitting him to raise it just a crack, enough to see through. Sanji held still and watched for a long while to verify that no one was passing by, and finally deemed it safe enough to raise the hatch and climb up out of the hold. He slipped out quick as a shadow and carefully let the hatch drop so as not to make any noise, finding it arrested at the last second – Zoro had climbed up after him and was holding it a crack open just as his crewmate had, in order to keep watch. Satisfied with the arrangement, Sanji straightened up and had a look around. He had emerged on a sort of anteroom that serviced the stairwells that led from deck to deck, which had doors on more than one side but nothing else to give anyone a reason to be there. It was a place for passing through, nothing more. Tightening the blue kerchief and pulling the hat lower, Sanji darted across and leaned against the wall beside one doorway, checking for the approach of any crewmen. Signs beside the door indicated that down the hall lay the bathrooms and barracks. Opposite him was a door marked “Armory.” He expected there might be someone around, so he decided not to linger too long. A check up the stairwell showed no one on the next deck above, either, though his heart began to pound in excitement. He had to be ready to play his part at any moment. He decided to just bite the bullet and go for it, and started up the stairs with a firm, purposeful tread as if he was supposed to be there all along.

The first Marines he encountered paid no attention to him at all. They passed by on their own urgent march, headed somewhere else on the ship. Sanji kept his head down all the same, darting quick glances from under the brim of the cap to observe and take note. He was near the galley, apparently, but the lull in activity meant that it was between mealtimes. It took some poking around and backtracking but eventually he found his way to a corridor behind the officers’ cabins that led him out to the main deck without going through a door in plain sight of pretty much everyone. It was a fair day, but the wind was light, and the ship was plowing slowly through rich blue waters. There was no sign of land in any direction, or so Sanji surmised as all was quiet and the rigging appeared set to stay on heading. No one could see him where he stood with his back against a wall, the side rail of the ship before him, so he stayed there a few minutes just to see what he could see. The only noises came from the normal daily routine of a ship, and the only voices he could hear clearly were chatting about food somewhere around a corner. What Sanji really wanted to find was the war room, wherever the officers and navigator would keep their maps, charts, and a calendar and clock. Or, perhaps, the communications room with the den-den mushi. He inched along the wall to the very corner and peeped around it to see what he could of the main deck, and noted a good many things before sliding back the way he had come and ducking down the side corridor. He was just considering how to make his way up onto the bridge level where the important rooms probably lay when a couple of kitchen staff blundered out of the galley and demanded, “Out of the way, crewman!” as they shoved past Sanji. He edged to the side, wondering where they were off to in such a hurry, and then couldn’t resist peeking into the galley. A few more staffers were in there, but they all had their heads down and were busy about their work. The urge to cook welled up in Sanji so powerfully that he almost walked straight into the kitchen to pick up a knife and get to work, but he quelled it in time. At least his glance found one good thing – a clock, noting that it was about half past two. So, that had been lunch, not breakfast. Unsure whether he could get much farther without actually showing himself and pretending to be a Marine, Sanji made his way back down to the barracks level and prowled around there for a bit. He shamelessly availed himself of an actual restroom (as opposed to making do down in the cargo hold) and washed his hands and face before snooping around an empty crew cabin. The bunks were all neatly made as Marines required, but there were personal effects tacked up on the walls or perched in tiny niches at the head of each bunk. He was able to find not only a clock but a calendar, and verified that it was the third day out from Nirva after all. That meant they had been asea a little over two full days. Once he had seen that much, Sanji checked the corridor to make sure no one would see him exiting that cabin, and then stole his way back to the hatch.

Zoro had been watching through a sliver of a gap between the door and the decking, holding his breath every time he saw feet pass by even though none of them ever came near the cargo hold. He thought he recognized Sanji’s thick-soled brogues once, but they didn’t come closer either, so he wasn’t sure. Those same shoes finally returned and came right up to the hatch, followed by a knee and then a fist, which rapped once right beside the hatch in signal before Sanji himself pried up the door and dropped down into the hold. Zoro wisely backed down the stairs out of his way, and followed when the cook gestured for him to come along back to their hiding place. Along the way he pulled off the hat and kerchief and shook out his blond hair. Zoro impatiently hissed, “Tell me what you saw! What’s going on?”

“It’s fine,” Sanji assured, his tone quiet but not whispering. “We were right about the day but it’s the middle of the afternoon.” Upon reaching the fortress of crates, he threw off the uniform shirt as well and fished out his tobacco purse from the inner pocket of his coat. He was keeping the Vivre card in there where it was safe. With Zoro peering over his shoulder, he laid the scrap of paper on the mattress and let it slide where it willed, and sure enough, it still scooted forward toward the bow. “Yeah, thought so. Still on course,” he murmured, catching the card and putting it away. “The ship’s barely moving, the wind is pretty light.”

Zoro grunted an affirmation. “No wonder it feels like we’re crawling. We are.”

“I said three days, didn’t I?” Sanji looked up at him. “So we still have more time to kill before we’re even in the neighborhood.”

“Anybody see you?”

“Lots of people. None of them seemed to know the difference between me and a real Marine.”

Zoro dropped down to a crouch across from his crewmate. “So? What’d you find out, besides what time it is?”

Sanji briefly relayed his observations of the ship configuration, movements of the crew, and state of the main deck out under the sun, while taking out another cigarette and lighting it. At the end, he concluded with, “There’s a men’s room right at the top of the stairs. You should take this and go use it.” He snatched up the discarded uniform shirt and held it out.

Zoro eyeballed it as though it were a strange new type of fish. “I don’t have to, right now.”

“Whenever, then. Even you can’t get lost finding it, it’s the first door at the end of the hall.”

Shrugging, the swordsman took the offered shirt and stashed it for later. “Beats the bucket, I guess.”

Now that he knew exactly what time it was, Sanji advocated not moving around too much since crew might be coming down soon to collect food supplies for the dinner hour. With nothing better to do, Zoro laid down to take a nap, but every time he started snoring he got poked with a toe so in the end he really didn’t get much sleep. Eventually he just gave it up as a lost cause and sat up, ruffling his hair. A glance to the side found Sanji silently…stretching? Yes, he was doing his best to stay limber and focused without moving about the cargo hold, which meant stretching out his long legs and testing whether his injury was still slowing him down. He looked perfectly fine from where Zoro sat, at least. The swordsman leaned forward and murmured, “I’m hungry. Is it dinnertime yet?”

Sanji straightened up from his stretch and made a thoughtful face. “I don’t know. No one’s come down, but it feels like it’s been hours.” He pried himself up and stepped over to the other end of their tiny hiding space where they were keeping everything they had nicked. “If you’re hungry, then we’ll eat. It doesn’t matter what time it actually is. I’m not keeping a kitchen schedule you know.”

“You know what you should’ve done?” Zoro suggested, making himself comfortable with his legs crossed. “Brought back a clock.”

“Couldn’t find one that wouldn’t be missed,” Sanji reported as he fished out some foodstuffs and used a pilfered knife to carve up fruit and cheese. “Believe me, I thought of that.”

He quickly had another little picnic lunch laid out for them, and sat down opposite his comrade so they could eat. Neither said much, as they had even exhausted most topics of conversation by now, but the comfortable silence was welcome. They had gotten used to one another, and hadn’t even really fought in days. As he sat there sipping water from the filtered storage supply, Sanji thought to himself that it was odd – but not in a bad way – that he actually liked the idiot swordsman’s company. When there were no outside influences setting them at odds and they had to work together, the two of them really did make a good team. No, no one else in the crew would believe it if they said so. It would have to remain their little secret, just like the other activities they had shared in the last few weeks. He lifted his head and looked across at his friend, and an unbidden flutter of feeling clenched in his chest. He shook it off and stuffed another orange slice in his mouth, trying to quash his interest with a reminder of the trees waiting for them on the Sunny and his favorite girl. Oranges were important. They were part of the survival tactics he had been subtly keeping in mind whenever they could procure supplies. Whatever else happened to them on this journey, they would return to the others in better shape than they left, or at least none the worse for wear. His injury actually wasn’t bothering him at all now. Zoro looked almost back to normal. The others would find them capable and ready for anything that might prevent them from leaving Sabaody unmolested – such as this very Marine warship. Then, Zoro’s quiet murmur interrupted his thoughts of potential sabotage. “I’m going to check and see if anyone’s around, and then find this men’s room.”

Sanji glanced up as his companion got to his feet, dusted off his pants, and grabbed the uniform shirt, swapping out his striped one for it. “I mean it, don’t go wandering,” he warned. “It’s just through the doorway on your right. You can’t miss the sign.”

“You worry too much,” Zoro chided him before slipping around the boxes and vanishing into the darkness beyond. Sanji was tempted to follow him and keep a lookout, but he had to clean up from their meal, first. It was vital to keeping anyone from finding out that there were stowaways – even the smallest crumb left idle could be a clue to the sharpest eye. He wiped off the knife with a scrap of cloth and put it away, adhering to his chef’s manners even in this situation. When the very last detail had been taken care of, he noticed Zoro was still not back and went after him, prowling silently through the cargo hold. He heard the faint creak of the hatch door before he could even get there, and shrank back behind some sacks of grain just in case. But the heavy tread of boots on the stairs was unmistakable, so Sanji melted out of the shadows and stood there with his hands in his pockets to await his companion’s return. 

Zoro came around the corner into the main hold and briefly startled at the figure half in shadow, but realized quickly it was just Sanji and put on a wide, contented grin. “That felt good,” he bragged.

“Told you.” The cook eyed him, noting that he had washed up and the tips of his hair were still wet. “Nobody’s around, huh?”

“The whole deck seemed deserted,” Zoro reported, shooing him with a gesture of his hand to go back to their corner. “I locked the door anyway, just in case. We’re pretty much in the clear, now to waste more time.”

Sanji sniffed, at the same time amused and annoyed. Wasting more time was right, but it was a small price to pay for essentially being dropped off right at the doorstep of the place they needed to be. He was starting to get a little excited about finally seeing the others’ faces again, but his impatience with the plodding pace of the ship was making it hard to stay positive. Entering their alcove first, he stopped and sighed. Zoro’s voice was suddenly right behind him, practically against the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’m bored too.”

Turning in place, Sanji found himself nearly chest-to-chest with the swordsman. That flutter in his chest stabbed him a little more strongly, and this time he followed its prompting, leaning in close with the threat of a kiss. The face so close to his split with a knowing grin, making him withhold the offer for the moment. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he challenged in his own deep murmur.

“I’m not the one trying to get things started,” Zoro retorted, darkly amused. “You really want to?”

“I’m not so sure now.” Sanji’s own thoughts were confusing him, he wanted _something_ from Zoro but he wasn’t sure exactly what. His comrade’s teasing made him pull back, but before he could retreat too far, Zoro grabbed him by the wrist. “Now’s probably not a good time,” Sanji said, almost ruefully.

“Probably not,” Zoro agreed. “But what else is there to do?”

Sanji tilted his head, giving him an eye over his shoulder. His face was unexpectedly serious. “I’m not in the habit of having sex just because I’m bored,” he said as indifferently as he could.

Zoro really didn’t care what his companion was thinking or feeling at the moment, though he did note the unusual tone. He let go of that wrist and shrugged. “If you don’t want to, fine, just make up your mind one way or the other.”

He edged past Sanji and flopped to a seat on the sailcloth mattress, kicking back and relaxing with his hands laced behind his head. He was still wearing the Marine shirt, which he hadn’t even bothered to button up. He looked up at the cook as if to tempt him into coming down there and joining him, but went momentarily ignored. Zoro was left to watch curiously as his comrade turned and leaned against the stack of crates they had made, taking out a cigarette but leaving it unlit between his lips. He was looking out across the half-dark cargo hold, though there was nothing out there to guard against, not even a whisper of a sound anywhere beyond them. At last, Sanji spoke over his shoulder. “You’re really okay with this?”

Zoro peered at his back. “Depends on what you mean by ‘this.’”

“Us.”

“The sex? Yeah, it’s fine.” He took his arms down and draped them in his lap. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I dunno...”

“You’re not,” Zoro said bluntly. He had noticed.

Sanji breathed a quiet sigh, still refusing to turn around. “I’m not knocking your prowess or anything.”

“Then say what you want to say, or shut up and stop freaking out about it,” Zoro complained. “It’s too late, anyway. What’s done is done, over and over again.”

Sanji lifted his head as if inspecting the ceiling above them. “It’s nothing,” he said after a moment. “I was just wondering. Pay it no mind.”

He really meant it; Zoro really took him at his word. He remained where he was, idly gazing at Sanji wondering if he was going to say anything more yet not at all surprised when he just turned and came over to plop down next to him. They sat silently for a long while with their backs against the wall, staring blankly at the wall of crates opposite, the very definition of wasting time. It was Zoro who finally found a thread of conversation and tugged at it. “Won’t be long now, huh? About a day’s time and you’ll be back around the girls just like you wanted.”

“Yeah...” Sanji liked the faint tickle of happiness that accompanied his thoughts, hearing that, but it was tempered by suspicion. Why would Zoro, of all people, bring that up?

“Suppose that means ‘this’ will be over, then,” the swordsman continued, his tone flippant.

Sanji rested his head against the wall, raising his gaze to the ceiling once more. He let a long silence lapse before responding, reaching up to take the unused cigarette from his lips first. “I don’t recall saying anything to that effect.”

Zoro’s eyebrows arched up in surprise. “...eh?”

“You heard me.”

“Yeah, but...” Zoro sat up, all the better to look toward him and study his expression, trying his damnedest to read through the blank mask. “I don’t get it.”

“What’s not to get?” Sanji slowly let his head roll back to meet his comrade’s gaze, and then straightened up from the wall as well, swiftly leaning in to kiss him hard without any warning. Zoro yielded for a moment and then battled back, pushing him against the wall without breaking contact. Sanji’s hand curled around his ear and then threaded into the hair at the back of his head, pulling him closer and keeping him in place to be devoured, though the flash of passion gave way to something slower and deeper. They kept this up for a while until the awkward position made Zoro break off just to shift around so they weren’t sitting side-by-side. Sanji felt warm, and tugged at the collar of his t-shirt as if it would help. “You’re getting better,” he idly noted.

“I’ve had a lot of practice lately,” Zoro smirked. He lowered his eyes to the lips dangerously close to his. “You’re not going to go all soft on me in another minute, are you?” he asked warily. He was not ignorant of the fluctuations in Sanji’s mood, after all.

“Oi.” Sanji sat back away from him. “It’s not like that. It just takes different things to get me in the mood,” he said as aloofly as he could. “I’m not only about the rough and tumble and you should’ve been aware of that.” He gazed keenly at his comrade. “Oh. Are you afraid of it?”

Zoro bristled for a moment, mostly at being accused of being afraid of anything, though “it” remained hanging in the air undefined. “I’m not afraid of anything. _You’re_ the one who was shrinking away a minute ago, and now you’re all over me again.”

“Oh, so you’re complaining about getting what you want, again,” Sanji noted. “And I’m the one with the problem?”

He was baiting Zoro almost without effort, and it was working. The swordsman huffed and actually turned away, folding his arms and leaning them on his knees. He decided his new tactic would be to ignore the cook and not give him what _he_ wanted, even if it meant denying himself the spark of pleasure that had already been struck. A minute later he felt nimble hands along his shoulders, and then rubbing up the back of his neck into his hair, roughly tousling it. Warm lips followed, pressing firmly to the nape of his neck. Zoro sagged tiredly; he was going to give in and he knew it, but he didn’t have to make it easy. Besides, he wanted to see exactly what Sanji was up to, what he wanted and what he would do for it. The hand in his hair slid back down around his neck, the better to pull him closer to those roaming lips. They stopped, though, and instead, Sanji draped himself against Zoro’s back and rested his scruffy chin on that shoulder. Enough of the shirt collar was tugged aside for Zoro to feel the scratch against his neck. He reached up and found himself with a handful of blond hair, which he ruffled with some force. “I’m not pissed,” he assured, “so stop being such a damn sap.”

“Look who’s talking,” Sanji mumbled against his neck, not at all deterred by the mussing of his hair. “Isn’t it the same _marimo_ -head who sat by my bedside for two days?”

Zoro caught his breath at the reminder. “It wasn’t anywhere near that long.”

“Yes it was. Pretty close, anyway.” There came another soft press of lips, this time just behind the earlobe where his three earrings dangled. “There’s no sense in denying it, I was there.”

“Yeah but you don’t have to _talk_ about it.” Zoro resisted as best he could, though the warm breath against his skin and the comfortable weight against his back felt pretty damn good.

“Ohhh,” Sanji murmured knowingly. “I see, now. It’s okay as long as I don’t actually say anything, hmm?” He chuckled deeply in Zoro’s ear. “What if I started calling you ‘my little Zoro?’”

The swordsman cringed, pure ire seething through him. “Don’t you fucking _dare_ ,” he snarled through tightly-clenched teeth.

Sanji felt him tense as if to throw him off and eased back ever-so-slightly, smirking. “So it is like that.” He slid gracefully away and had a fistful of the Marine uniform shirt a second later, pulling Zoro around to face him directly. His expression was sober but placid. “If you don’t want to give this up, you’re just going to have to deal with it. I can’t change the kind of man I am.”

Zoro eyed him stoically. “Neither can I. Can you deal with that?”

Sanji made a show of mulling it over and then leaned in closer, delicately averting his gaze at the last second to appear coy. “You put up with a moment of sap now and then, and I indulge your random bouts of horniness. Deal?”

“And I don’t have to talk about it, ever.”

“No talking. Just doing whatever comes natural.”

The grin that filled Zoro’s face was agreement enough. “I can live with that.”

Rather than close the gap and kiss his companion, he pushed at a shoulder in an attempt to pin him against the wall behind. Sanji yielded only slightly, and then shook his head. “Cool it, seaweed, it’s not going to be that way this time.” He deflected the hand on his shoulder with an effortless brush of his, but didn’t resist any further than that. Since he was already in that position, he settled down to a seat with his back to the wall and stretched out his legs on either side of Zoro. His invitation was taken without a word – Zoro inched forward and positioned himself astride the cook’s lap as comfortably as he could. It was a conducive position for making out, which they fell to without any further discussion. Of course, they had already done quite a bit of it, and so quickly moved on to faces, necks, throats, and earlobes while hands eagerly roamed bodies. Zoro still wore the uniform shirt wide open, providing no resistance to Sanji’s exploring caress. The lamp sat close by, providing a pool of warm, golden light that fell across both of them and left everything else behind and beyond deep in shadow, contracting the world around them until it contained nothing but the two of them comfortably enjoying the taste and touch of one another.

Zoro did not mind the gentle hands sneaking up under the open shirt and playing across his flanks and back, but he was not nearly so slow-moving in kind. He mostly clutched at Sanji’s muscular regions, his shoulder or arm or undamaged chest, until he impatiently dove down and groped to find out whether they were good to proceed yet. The answer was clearly no, although Sanji groaned a bit at the squeeze through his trousers. Encouraged, Zoro kept it up for a bit, rubbing steadily until his partner grunted against his lips and returned the gesture by clenching a hand on the swordsman’s ass. Zoro grinned and murmured against Sanji’s cheek, “You up for it? Or are you worried that it’s too _reckless_ or something?”

Sanji chuckled darkly. “Reckless is the way I like it,” he purred. “Tempting fate, risking being caught...” He tilted his head and mused over it for a moment. As the thought occurred to him, his expression melted into something more curious than sly. “The idea of doing it on an actual Marine ship with Marines everywhere is kind of...exciting.”

“Ah. So you’re not all hearts and flowers and bullshit,” Zoro said smugly. “Good to know.”

“What, you haven’t figured that out by now?” Sanji’s hand snaked out from folds of cloth and grabbed the collar of the Marine uniform, keeping Zoro from retreating at all. “I would have thought that last night on Nirva Island showed you what I’m capable of.”

Zoro remembered that all too well – including his promise that it would be the cook’s turn to top “next time.” Oh well; he would have it either way without complaint, and was not in the mood to fight this time anyway. “You’re done being stupid, for now?”

“You’ve got me heated up just enough,” Sanji admitted, easing his grip on the collar enough to let Zoro sit up a bit. “But I still want to take it easy. Not too much noise, remember?”

Zoro relented with a small huff. “There won’t be a lot of noise if you can just keep it down,” he taunted. “Do I have to gag you?”

Sanji wagged a finger. “Nah uh, of all the things I might be into, that’s not one of them.”

“Then shut up and show me what you want.” He dropped his hand into their entangled laps and rubbed the backs of his fingers against Sanji’s closed fly. “You’re slow.”

Sanji clucked his tongue in annoyance. “You’re just impatient. Are you already...?” He checked with a reciprocal brush of his hand and shook his head. “You must be finally hitting puberty or something, to be so fast at the trigger.”

“Shut up,” Zoro complained, and then ensured that there would be no more tasteless words by bending down and kissing him hard, keeping his mouth well occupied for a bit. The hand in his lap went still as Sanji was forced to concentrate on other business, but didn’t stay that way for long. Zoro tucked his hands up under his companion’s t-shirt and let them rest against warm skin, his touch firm, neither groping nor caressing for once. He braced himself there like that until he could pull his kiss away, leaving Sanji with only a soft groan on his lips. For a moment they sat together in the lamplight, faces nearly touching; then, Sanji tugged on the haramaki, wordlessly asking for more. In answer, Zoro sat up and grabbed for the t-shirt, helping him out of it in seconds flat. Neither spoke a word as they reached for each other, clutching and groping, forgetting all about the slow and easy the more interested they became in pushing this endeavor to the limit. Each had an idea of where he wanted to go, but being unable to read the other’s mind, led to a few awkward fumbles and tangles of limbs before Zoro got a fistful of blond hair at the back of Sanji’s neck, and the cook pressed fingertips into the firm muscles of the swordsman’s back. Zoro gave him a heavy look as if to warn him a second before his hands dropped into Sanji’s lap once more, this time to snatch at the buckle of his belt. The lithe body beneath him tensed subtly, as if anticipating this, so Zoro put on a smirk and rethought his plan. He still unbuckled Sanji’s pants and opened the fly, but his hand dove down into folds of fabric and pulled out the prize, which he fondled a bit and then began to stroke with a firm grip. Sanji let out the breath he was holding in a low-voiced groan of appreciation, and his head tipped back against the wall with a small thunk. Zoro leaned in close to him and murmured against his cheek. “I’ll get you there. Then we can really have some fun.”

Though his breathing quickened and his gaze was hazy, Sanji had enough wits to quietly chuckle. “One of these days I’m going to teach you about real foreplay. And taking your time. We’ve got all the time in the world right now.”

“I don’t feel like taking my time.” Zoro’s teeth scraped along Sanji’s cheek and earlobe. “The Marines could come down here any minute. What if they caught us in the middle of _foreplay_?”

Whether it was the steady pace of his hand or the words he growled in his comrade’s ear, he was pleased to feel that he was finally getting somewhere, as that shaft hardened in his hand and Sanji bit back a grunt of pleasure. Then hands were insistently grasping at Zoro’s haramaki again, this time pulling it out of the way so his pants could likewise be opened. The swordsman sat back enough to allow for it to happen, though he never slackened his pace. There they were, sitting face to face, each reaching across to stroke the other to full hardness. He grinned in triumph; so far, so good, and despite his whispered warnings, there was no sign of anyone coming to find them.

They kept it up just long enough to get each other to a near-perfect point of full, heated erection, saying nothing and only breaking the silence with small noises of enjoyment at this or that particular touch. Zoro paused first, rolling his head back and taking a nice, deep breath. There was already sweat on the back of his neck, which could probably be blamed on the still, stagnant air of the cargo hold. He curled his hand around Sanji’s neck and pulled himself down to kiss the blond cook on the top of his head before disengaging and starting to get to his feet. Sanji hissed a bit, only now noticing that his legs were kind of asleep from being held down in that position so long. He stretched first, and kicked off his shoes, but before he could do anything else he glanced up to find Zoro dropping his pants and haramaki and then turning to rummage in the bag. It gave Sanji a moment to really notice the curve of his ass peeking out from under the Marine uniform shirt – he still hadn’t bothered to shed it – and wonder to himself what he thought about it. It didn’t get him instantly hot the way a woman’s tush might, but he privately considered that it wasn’t a bad sight. When Zoro stood and came back with the vial of oil, Sanji wrestled himself back up against the wall in a better position and started to tug off his trousers. He didn’t get very far. The swordsman dropped himself down once more astride his comrade’s lap, though he didn’t settle his full weight down this time. Sanji sighed a bit. “You didn’t want to wait for me to get my pants off?” he complained.

“Don’t need to.” Zoro uncapped the vial and poured a little oil into his hand, which he immediately began to apply to Sanji’s waiting cock.

That curled eyebrow went up – way up. “Oho,” the cook murmured with a little note of happiness behind the surprise. “You remembered.”

“Of course I did.” Zoro kept his eyes lowered calmly, almost bashfully, as he stroked up and down to distribute the oil. Sanji watched him, feeling a warm sense of desire pooling in the pit of his stomach as the other man leaned forward so he could apply more oil to himself, just casually reaching back behind him with no fanfare. Zoro showed when he was finished by suddenly giving Sanji a wicked smirk and a hurried, sloppy kiss before backing off and finding a safe place to put the vial. He inched forward on his knees to position himself, bracing one hand on the wall, and sank down until he could find what needed to go where with his other hand. There were a few moments of ungainly groping, slick fingers fumbling, and muttered half-words trying to assist, but eventually he got there and pushed slowly down. In his haste he hadn’t fully prepared and could only go partway down for now, but Sanji held still and grasped him around the hips to help guide him at a safe pace. It took a few minutes of slow, patient testing, rising up and sinking down lower and lower each time, but Zoro eventually seated himself fully with a relieved sigh. The hands on his thighs squeezed a bit in appreciation, making him smirk dangerously.

The little hitches up and down his length had made Sanji rather happy to be where he was. He lifted his head and gave his comrade a leer. “Not bad.”

“Got the idea from you,” Zoro admitted, leaning both hands on the wall behind Sanji’s head. “Ready?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing.” Sanji slid a hand up and fondled the impressive erection standing up between their bodies. “Weren’t you in a hurry? Get on with it, then.”

Zoro only snorted at that, not dignifying it with a response. He pushed up and back down with a bit of a grunt, testing his limits, and began a more constant pace almost immediately. Sanji looked up at him, and then down at where his hand still loosely gripped Zoro’s cock, not sure what to do with himself exactly but very much enjoying the position. He had plenty of time to think of something, though, they were only just starting after all. The rise and fall of that muscled body was almost hypnotic, and the sensations he enjoyed were beyond amazing. Not to mention, seeing Zoro wearing that uniform shirt added an extra-dirty dimension to it. They were defiling the Marine ship in more ways than one, and it brought a sly shade into his grin. He felt Zoro’s breath against his ear and glanced up to find the swordsman curled over him, sheltering him and bearing down on him in that eager rhythm. He nosed into the hollow of Zoro’s throat – it wasn’t moving as much as his hips below – and nipped at his sweaty skin. Zoro growled a bit at that but never slackened his pace for a second. It was a good thing neither of them were making more noise than heavy breathing and a few grunts or they never would have heard the creak of a distant door and the thud of footsteps coming down the stairs from the deck above. 

Both froze at the same instant, and a heartbeat later Sanji grabbed for the lantern and hastily extinguished it, plunging their alcove into complete blackness. It took supreme concentration to still their breathing and swallow every last vestige of sound while still coupled so, but it was more dangerous to move than to remain that way. They could only hope that whoever had come down into the cargo hold would leave quickly. Once they were still enough, they could clearly hear the Marine crewmen rummaging around across the hold, two of them at least because they spoke quietly to each other. The minutes ticked on and the sailors showed no sign of getting anywhere near their goal – in fact, they seemed to be getting closer to where the two pirates hid. Gritting his teeth, Sanji closed his eyes and silently begged the sailors to give up and go upstairs, this was not the time for such an interruption! Then, the last thing he would have expected: in the dark, in the hiding spot, with Marines prowling ever closer, Zoro ever-so-subtly lifted himself on his knees and slowly sank back down onto Sanji’s cock. He was continuing! Sanji had to bite his lip to keep from making the slightest noise. Heat rushed through his body, up his neck and into his cheeks and earlobes. He thought for a moment about grabbing Zoro and holding him still, but he was afraid of missing in the dark or making too much noise of movement. There was a long pause, during which both listened for the sailors in the hold, and then Zoro did it again, painstakingly slowly. Sanji splayed his own hand across his mouth to keep silent. Very nearby, they heard one of the Marines cackle loudly, and the other complained at him about wasting time. Then came the unmistakable crunch and scrape of large crates being moved, and the floor beneath them carried the vibrations. Zoro’s hands were still braced on the wall on either side of Sanji’s head; the cook felt his breath on his face, the weight of his bulk, the squeeze of his body gripping his cock. Even as the sailors clattered around far too close to them for comfort, Zoro dared to move a third time. This time Sanji definitely clenched his free hand on his comrade’s hip, trying to beg him to stop. Beyond the wall of crates that sheltered them there was a thump, and then one of the Marines cried out in triumph. It took agonizing minutes for the interlopers to actually collect what they had come for and make their way back down the hold to the stairs, a stretch of time in which Sanji thought he might burst from holding himself back. Even as the Marines were on the retreat, Zoro was already resuming his motion, though slowly and delicately, and the cook feared he was going to come on the spot. The instant the hatch clanged shut, Zoro slammed down onto him, escalating the pace beyond what he had been doing in the first place. Tearing his hand away from his mouth, Sanji let out loud gasps, feeling himself growing harder and hotter that quickly. Neither even bothered to reach for the lantern and give themselves light, they simply continued in the darkness, relying on touch and feel. Sanji knew just where to reach and grope to find Zoro’s erection and give him something in return, helping him along. There was a low groan in his ear, and then just the whisper of friction of their bodies and the jingle of three earrings.

The lack of light intensified every sensation. Zoro had picked a good angle right from the start and was eager to push to completion, especially with nimble fingers curled loosely around his cock so that he could rub himself into them as he rose and fell. Sanji’s other hand was still around his hip, riding out the motion. Bending his head, Zoro found his face via the heat of his skin and gasps of breath and trailed his lips across…whatever he found. Was that a nose? Sanji was unable to stop himself from letting out a low cry, and began to briskly stroke the erection in his hand as if it were his own. Zoro gasped at the redoubled sensations and pushed himself harder and faster, feeling himself already close to breaking. He came first, and after a brief, shaky pause, resumed his rocking motion to give his comrade a chance to finish. Sanji was right behind him, though this time he managed to restrain his noise behind clenched teeth. All they could do for a few minutes was sit there and collect themselves, leaning heavily against the wall. Zoro’s hands slid down onto Sanji’s shoulders to brace against him. When he felt able, Sanji stretched out a hand and searched for the lantern. He knew it was within arm’s reach, and found it with a minimum of awkwardness and cursing. However, he had snuffed it out, and his lighter was currently pinned somewhere underneath the both of them. His hand came to rest on what was clearly Zoro’s knee. “You’re sitting on my pants,” he whispered into the darkness.

“So?” came the response, heavy and relaxed.

“So my lighter’s in the pocket.”

“Hang on.” A hand began to paw around in that vicinity, feeling its way to the patch of fabric trapped between an ass and a leg, and eventually coming away with the lighter. Zoro flicked it to give them a momentary glimpse of where everything was, and then handed it over properly. A minute later and Sanji had the lantern re-lit, though the flame was small due to dwindling fuel. It was enough to see by, at least. Only then did they finally look at each other, and vaguely smirk at one another, equally satisfied by having successfully pulled off one hot (if shortened) session. Zoro shrugged the uniform shirt off at last, seeing as it had gotten a bit splattered, and crumpled it to use as a towel to help clean both himself and his partner off. All the squirming around made Sanji wince, but before he could say anything, Zoro caught on and extracted himself, scooting back a little to give each other some space. Both made use of the ruined shirt and then tossed it aside in a far corner. It was the best they had, for now. Zoro fell aside to let Sanji stretch his legs and reclined, naked, on the bed of sailcloth, looking rather proud of himself. He went briefly ignored, as the cook scrabbled around to find his cigarettes and lit one. At that point Zoro heaved a short laugh, but lacking anything in particular to say, that was all he managed.

Sanji glanced at him at last. “What?”

“Nothing.”

For a moment Sanji peered at him, not sure whether to believe him, and then turned and prowled over the top of him. He settled down on top of Zoro as if he were a huge, muscle-bound pillow and laid with his chin on his own arm. He was careful to flick the ash off his cigarette over the floor at arm’s length before drawing the butt back to his lips. “That’s the sort of thing that’ll make a great story someday, if only it didn’t have you in it.”

Zoro frowned, his lips twisting in a pout. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not telling anybody about us, am I?” Sanji responded lazily.

“Oh.” The frown faded, leaving Zoro looking merely tired. He had his arms tucked under his head rather comfortably. “Too bad. That’d be a hell of a story, all right.”

Sanji’s visible eye narrowed. “The hell did you keep going for? I had to clamp my mouth shut or they’d have found us for sure.”

Zoro shrugged, jostling him. “Just felt like it. What, you didn’t like it?”

Sanji lowered his gaze and grumbled, but the blush that dashed across his cheeks said enough. He stretched his arm off to the side to tap off more ash. “It definitely passed the time.”

The swordsman chuckled quietly and closed his eyes. “Hurry up with that thing and get off me.”

Sanji sniffed and took another drag. “You’ll fall asleep first.”

“I’m not falling asleep until I get my pants back.”

Discussing it made the cook realize he wanted his pants as well, so he reluctantly rolled off of his comrade and sat up to retrieve them. Both wriggled into their respective trousers while they could, and Sanji stubbed out what was left of his cigarette so he could flop comfortably back down. Though he knew they needed to pick someone to stay up on watch, at the moment he was far more interested in unwinding after the intense romp they had enjoyed. Zoro was already flat on his back again, looking more than drowsy in the dim light, even as Sanji eased next to him. Dark eyes glanced his way, even as he propped his blond head up on one hand. “Let me guess. I get to take first watch.”

“Mm...” Zoro offered no answer, though he rolled over and pushed Sanji down unexpectedly. The cook startled for a moment, and then found himself being kissed hard. It was obviously the last burst of whatever energy Zoro had, for he trailed off gradually and then slumped down on top of his crewmate to use him for a pillow. “Whatever you want,” he murmured sleepily.

“Shithead,” Sanji complained, though he wrapped his arms around the swordsman’s bare torso all the same. He knew Zoro was about to pass out, so he was stuck with the job whether he wanted it or not. He was warm everywhere Zoro’s skin pressed against his, like the cheek on his collarbone and the arm around his flank, and it really wasn’t helping him to stay awake. He took a moment to listen carefully, but the cargo hold was dead silent around them once more, and the ship’s motion seemed unchanged. If he hadn’t been lying there with a _marimo_ pinning him down, Sanji might have been able to keep watch as promised, perhaps taken a walk to shake the lethargy out of his legs and scrounged up some more supplies, but without warning or any further precautions taken, he drifted off to sleep as well with one hand resting in a bed of green hair.

There was no way to tell how much time passed before Sanji woke up suddenly out of a deep sleep. He couldn’t tell what had woken him, and as he blinked his eyes open, he couldn’t tell where he was, either. The lamp had burned down and run out of oil, so the secret alcove in the back of the cargo hold was utterly dark. He could feel Zoro’s bulk still beside him and an arm still around him, but he had rolled onto his side at some point so they lay spooned together on the makeshift mattress. For a moment Sanji held still, listening, in case of any alarming sounds, but everything was quiet. The only noise at all in the hold was Zoro’s deep, even breathing against the back of his neck. At least with the lantern extinguished they were safe from prying eyes, but Sanji still wanted to kick himself for failing to keep watch so soon after they had almost been caught. Then, the body behind him stirred a little, and he realized what had cut through his sleep and brought him to alertness – the arm around him brushed across the ticklish spot on his ribs, making him squirm. That deserved an elbow in the side, and so he did. Zoro awoke with a startled snort. “Get off me...oh.” He paused so long that Sanji thought he had fallen back asleep and almost hit him again. “Why’s it dark?”

“The lamp went out,” Sanji muttered, rolling his eyes in the dark because it wouldn’t be seen. “This is your fault you know.”

“My fault?” That was enough to get Zoro’s attention fully. “That it’s dark? Shut up, cook.”

“I mean it. If you hadn’t grabbed onto me, I could have stayed awake.”

There was another long pause. The voice that came out of the dark definitely had a grin to it. “You fell asleep too.”

“No thanks to you.” Not that Sanji was really moving to get out from under the encircling arm.

“Is there any trouble?” A hint of wariness, the slightest shift of movement.

“Not that I can tell.”

Zoro slumped back against him and rested his face against the back of Sanji’s neck. “Then stop worrying and go back to sleep.”

Sanji grumbled under his breath, but his comrade was clearly not letting him up. On the contrary, he was snuggling closer as if planning to stay wrapped up together for as long as possible. They did seem more or less safe now that they had no light to draw unfriendly eyes to their corner, but Sanji was unsure. It was never a good idea to completely let down one’s guard while stowing away on an enemy ship, and yet they had just done so for however long he had been asleep. He didn’t like it, but for now he was trapped unless he shoved Zoro off of him. He put his head back down and closed his eyes, though he remained awake this time, at least for a while. If he slept it was only fitful dozes, interrupted often by his own mind returning to wary thought and observation. Nothing happened beyond their hidden alcove, though. No one else came down for the entire duration of Sanji’s dark vigil.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The resolution of their journey and the start of another. So to speak. A twist of fates that puts the boys back on track to get stronger for the rest of the crew.

At long last, Zoro rolled over in his sleep and nestled down into the sailcloth, freeing his crewmate to do as he pleased. The long nap might have been ill-advised, but Sanji was feeling much better for it, he noticed as he sat up and scuffed a hand through his hair. The bandage stuck to his chest was starting to peel off from all the activity, so he just ripped it off and tossed it aside, done with it. Now to solve the problem of the doused lantern. He didn’t know where his lighter was, it wasn’t in his pocket, but if the lamp was out of oil then it wouldn’t light anyway. He decided in the end the easiest route would be to go back to the storerooms at the other end of the hold and get another lamp and some matches. It would save groping in the dark and possibly knocking into or losing things. It was too dark to even find the bag with their spare clothing, so he prowled through the cargo hold shirtless and shoeless, his bare-footed steps as silent as cat paws on the wood planking. It was a fast and simple mission and resulted in a fresh lamp for their convenience. Sanji brought it back to their hidden alcove and raised it high to search around for items. His lighter and tobacco purse were on the floor near the old lantern, his shirt wadded up and stuffed beneath Zoro’s knee. He decided just to get a fresh one from the bag, a regular shirt – the green one he had been wearing when he had been sent away from Sabaody, in fact, since it was on top. With that done, he could take stock of their situation and figure out the next move to be made. He was a little hungry, and figured Zoro would be as well when he finally got his ass up, so food could be a priority. The soiled uniform shirt needed to be thrown away somewhere, so he did that right away lest it become a further nuisance. Less urgent but certainly still important was finding out just how much time had passed and whether they were due to land soon. Surely the sleeping had passed enough time, they had to be close. Sanji resolved to simply take care of their needs and wait it out, since they could literally be landing at Sabaody at any minute. When Zoro finally woke up and stayed that way, stretching and prying himself up to a seat, he found Sanji cobbling together an edible meal out of supplies he had once more raided. All the scattered, cast-off items had been gathered and packed away, leaving the hiding-place as well-kept as a real ship’s cabin. Zoro crawled over to his crewmate and peered owlishly over his shoulder. “How long have you been up?”

“Long enough.” Sanji flashed a quick grin in his direction. “Got enough rest, Sleeping Beauty?”

Zoro recoiled for a moment before he realized he was merely being teased, and harrumphed it off. “Is that breakfast or dinner?”

“Damned if I know. We were both out at the same time, so I’ve lost all track of what day it even is.” He had a cigarette in his lips, unlit, and was rolling it around while he pondered and finished preparing their meal. As they made another picnic of it, he tucked the cigarette into a pocket and folded his long legs underneath him.

Though he rarely, if ever, said anything about Sanji’s cooking, Zoro always felt a quiet gratitude for his skills and the food he provided. Now was no different; he sat and ate silently with his gaze cast down, but he had no complaints about the slim pickings. It wasn’t nearly enough, and Sanji wished he could scrounge more, even raid the kitchen itself, but both of them could get by on far less. In between bites of melon, Zoro mumbled, “So what do we do now?”

Sanji sipped at the emergency-ration water he had nicked on his last raid. “We can’t have been asleep _that_ long. The ship’s still moving so we’re still at sea, but we’ve got to be close to the archipelago by now.”

Zoro raised his eyes in his comrade’s direction. “What, no more sneaking up to the deck to find out?”

“Only if we have to.” Sanji sat back with his elbow on one knee. “I’m all for waiting it out. It’d be dangerous to try to infiltrate right before the ship lands, whoever goes up might be honestly mistaken for crew and pulled into service, and we’d get separated at the crucial moment.” He shook his head slowly as if in warning. “We’re so close, I’m not going to pull any stupid risks now.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Zoro reluctantly agreed. He was sick of waiting, but they couldn’t fail just steps away from their goal. He took the water bottle Sanji offered him and gulped some down. “Damn. What I wouldn’t give for a bottle of booze right now.”

“Stingy officers hoarding all of it up in their cabins,” Sanji snorted.

They went back to eating and lapsed into another comfortable silence, though there wasn’t much more to finish off. At the end of it, Zoro got up and brushed his pants off. “I’m gonna stretch my legs for a bit.” He set his hand heavily on the top of Sanji’s head but this time, didn’t tousle. It just trailed off as he shouldered through the gap between crates and left the alcove. Sanji sat there for a long moment, pursing his lips to hold back the quiet groan he almost made at the touch. It took a while for his face to stop burning, though.

A few laps around the cargo hold, some push-ups and chin-ups, and Zoro considered himself stretched enough. It was pathetically minimal exercise, but it was all he could do in that space. Sanji had come to join him partway through, but only to walk around and poke into things, maybe steal more supplies if he found anything of use. They returned to their hiding spot, where Zoro decided to fish out the striped shirt he had cast off in order to pose as a Marine for those ten minutes or so that he had, however long ago that was. He wanted to say yesterday, but only because he had slept long and deeply. Glancing at Sanji, he noticed that his crewmate was lost in thought, his gaze hard and yet focused on nothing, the cigarette in his mouth burnt down almost to the butt. Zoro could not resist grabbing him and planting a lazy kiss on the side of his face, and then letting him go when he spluttered. It successfully snapped him out of his gloomy thought, at least, which is what the swordsman intended. Now that he had Sanji’s attention, he proposed playing cards or doing something to pass the time, if they were so intent on waiting out the rest of the journey alert. Believing it still was only a matter of time, minutes or an hour, Sanji agreed.

Far more than an hour later, both pirates looked at each other across their nth card game and began to wonder. By the growling of Zoro’s stomach it was getting to be time to eat again, but it had been far too long since anyone came down into the cargo hold to fetch supplies. For that reason Sanji had surmised that they were so close to landing that the galley was closed, but now, he wasn’t so sure. Zoro tossed down a card without much care as to whether it was a winner or a loser, and then murmured, “Sure is taking them a long time to make landfall.”

“Maybe I miscalculated a little,” Sanji sniffed, just staring at the card without making a move. “Maybe we were only asleep an hour or two.”

Zoro hummed under his breath, a noise of uncertainty, and then folded his hand. “I don’t like it. We need to find out for sure.”

Sanji glanced at him, and then sighed and threw his cards down as well. He was bored and frustrated enough to give in and take the first step toward investigating the current time and location. He plucked the Vivre card out of his tobacco pouch and set it down on top of the pile of cards to double-check their heading. The scrap of paper moved toward Zoro – toward the stern.

Sanji snatched it up and stared hard at it, as if it could possibly be anything but the Vivre card labeled “Rayleigh” that was supposed to move toward the old pirate’s location on Sabaody. “It’s behind us?” he whispered, a note of worry creeping into his voice.

It took Zoro a second or two later to catch up, but then he voiced what they were both thinking. “We’ve changed course.”

“Shit!” Sanji tucked the Vivre card scrap away and made to jump up to his feet, but at that very moment they heard the creak of the cargo hatch and instead scrambled to shutter the lantern and hold still. Both sat with their backs pressed against the wall and their eyes cast upward to the little bit of light that could be glimpsed over the top of their crate-fortress. The Marines who came down stayed at the far end of the ship, so they couldn’t overhear any of their chatter about what time it was or what they were retrieving from the hold. It took them long enough, whatever it was, but the pirates didn’t move a muscle until the hatch had closed to and the space gone silent once more. Zoro found the lantern and uncovered it to find Sanji sitting with the heels of his palms pressed against his forehead in frustration. “I don’t believe this,” he breathed. “How long were we out? When did they turn around?”

“Stop freaking out,” Zoro grumbled. “You need to think of a way out of this.”

“Me?” Sanji’s head came up sharply. “Why the hell is it _my_ job?”

“Because you’re the brains of this operation.” Zoro’s face was serious as he said it. “Now calm down and think.”

Sanji’s glare eased off his face, and he deliberately took a couple of deep breaths to refocus his mind on the matter. “There’s nothing for it, now,” he said heavily, “one of us is going to have to go topside to check things out. And by one of us I mean me, I’m sure.”

“Isn’t it dangerous?”

“Of course it is.” Sanji slapped his hands on his thighs as he stood up. “But there’s no other choice. The Vivre card says we’re going the wrong way, so we have to find out why. And I don’t trust you to stay undercover for very long.”

Zoro scowled at him, even though he knew it was a valid complaint. “I don’t care about that stuff. I just want to get off this ship and get where we’re going.”

“And that’s why you’re not allowed to investigate.” Sanji stood there for the briefest moment to listen and verify that no one else was in the hold but them, and then swiftly ducked out of the alcove en route to the storage rooms at the other end. He needed another uniform, after they completely ruined the last one. There was no time to waste, every minute they fiddled around down there took them further away from Sabaody. He didn’t even wait for Zoro, though the swordsman got up and followed him without a word. Sanji raided the uniform storage for another shirt, buttoning it right over his dress shirt and tie, as well as a cap since he had just tossed aside the other one somewhere in the darkened hold. Hearing his crewmate come up behind him in the doorway, he tossed a second shirt over. “Keep watch, again, just in case I have to make a break for it.”

Zoro caught the shirt and boggled at it. “Why do I need one?”

“In the off chance someone comes to the cargo hold while you’re standing watch!”

Zoro eyed him as he shouldered past and then flung the shirt over his shoulder, not caring where it landed. “Forget it, I’m done playing pretend. That’s your deal.”

“Then use it to sneak into the men’s room up here, I don’t care!” Sanji snarled under his breath. He was actually thinking about doing so himself, on the way back down, to wash up properly if nothing else. He was already halfway up the stairs, and once again gingerly tested the cargo hatch to be sure he could get out. He caught a glimpse of feet and hastily lowered it again, but the Marine in the foyer above had been turned away and didn’t notice the hatch raise. Once the feet had gone off down the hallway to the right, Sanji hurried to slip out of the hold and close the hatch behind him as quietly as he could, before anyone else happened across him. He moved a lot more quickly than the last time, checking both ways before darting up stairs and through doors, making for the main deck. He got to the last doorway when he finally met someone coming – an officer, no less, wearing one of the Justice coats. Sanji’s breath hitched in his throat, but he composed himself and snapped into a salute as he stepped out of the way.

The officer glanced at him as he passed. “At ease, sailor. Report.”

Sanji’s eye twitched under the shadows of his visor cap, but otherwise he covered his tracks well. “Uh...all’s well as it…should be. Sir. Nothing to report.”

The man peered at him for a moment, but then shrugged and continued on his way. “They need more hands on deck, get out there.”

“Aye, sir.” Sanji waited until he was gone before shooting him a glare from under the cap and ducking out onto the open deck of the ship. There were a lot of sailors moving around, maintaining sails and lashing down objects. His attention was caught by a cluster of men securing the warship’s lifeboats in the center of the deck, against the mainmast. That was important to note, so he filed it away mentally. Someone shouted and gestured toward the bridge, so Sanji waved to indicate that he had heard the order and would go carry it out. It didn’t matter what the sailor wanted him to do, he wasn’t going to do it anyway – it was an excuse to get into the inner rooms and spy out the information he needed with a handy story to tell any officer who caught him lurking there. He did note that the mad scramble on deck was indicative of battening down the hatches, literally – there must have been a storm brewing. As he slipped into the corridors around the galley and officers’ cabins, he reminded himself to listen for weather information as well as the rest.

Knowing the galley had a clock, he checked there first. The galley cooks were in the middle of preparing a meal and didn’t even notice another crewman in the doorway. It was almost dinnertime, apparently. He managed to swipe a couple of freshly-baked rolls off a tray before drifting out, and stuffed them in his shirt to save for later. He really wanted to get onto the bridge or near to the helm to see what the actual heading was, but there were too many officers and he couldn’t fake a story convincing enough as to why a lowly (and incorrectly-dressed) crewman was in their midst. A couple of laps around the corridors told him where the captain was, at least, so he lingered extra-long around the map room and managed to always be ducking around the next corner if he heard someone coming. Just when he had exhausted every idea and resigned himself to making his way back down into the cargo hold, he heard the unmistakable sound of a den-den mushi calling. Sanji managed to slink up against a wall underneath a window in time to listen to the captain’s end of the call.

“...yes, sir, I’m aware of it,” he was saying. “Preparations are being made as we speak. Staying on this heading is the best course.” A long pause, then a sigh. “Sir, my helmsman is an experienced navigator who’s been through more typhoons than I have. I trust his judgment. It’s not about getting there faster, we’ll lose some time even if our bow is pointed straight into the storm current. No, I know. Yes, sir. Of course I will, sir.”

The call ended fairly quickly, and then someone else in the room spoke up. “The vice-admiral wanted us to change course?”

“Nah, he’s just trying to give advice where advice isn’t needed. Again,” the captain groused. “I trust Becksley, we’ll follow his lead. It’s not like we’re going to catch up to the revolutionary ship in the middle of a huge storm.”

“They’ll be just as hampered by it, anyway,” the other voice reasoned. “Especially if rumors are true and it’s the ship stolen from Impel Down. That vessel had to have been through a lot already, it might be damaged.”

Sanji’s eye widened as he listened. The captain harrumphed a bit. “We can’t rely on that, there’s no guarantee. But yes, that was the report – the revolutionary Ivanov was leading the ship that broke out of Impel Down. I actually don’t expect to catch up to it, but we should be able to get a bead on where it’s headed.”

“I suppose a revolutionary ranks higher than a supernova-level pirate captain, in terms of who to go after,” the other sighed.

“I have my doubts about those reports on Trafalgar Law’s ship,” the captain said in a much quieter tone. Sanji heard him anyway. “Good thing they gave us a new mission before we actually reached Sabaody.” There was a shuffling as of papers on a desk, and then he added, “Preparations are coming along?”

“We’ll have everything in place well before the storm actually hits,” his other officer proudly reported.

“What about the cargo hold?”

“Last on the list. We need to get the main deck and galley secured first.”

“All right, but don’t let it go. The last thing we need is to lose balance because some cargo shifted.”

Sanji didn’t need to hear anything else. He peeled away from the wall and darted down the adjoining corridor, making all due haste to get back to the cargo hold. On top of everything else, their secret hiding place was about to be compromised in the name of securing the ship against a coming storm. He had to stop and salute another officer at the top of the stairs, and then practically leaped down them to the hatch between decks. It was tightly closed; Sanji wondered if Zoro had been almost discovered, or worse, but as he approached and grabbed the handle, the door yielded with no resistance. There was no time to wonder where the swordsman was, footsteps were tromping up the adjacent corridor. Sanji dropped into the hold and eased the hatch closed overhead, waiting there stock-still for a moment until the sound of someone passing by toward the upward stairs died away. He let out the breath he was holding with a relieved sigh, but even as he was turning to go down he found the tip of a sword blade in his face. He recoiled and nearly shouted at the same time as Zoro realized it was him and lowered the threat. “Sorry. Thought you were one of them.”

“Dammit seaweed-head what the _fuck_ are you doing?” Sanji hissed. “Out of my way, let me down! We’re in trouble.”

“What?” Zoro sheathed Wadou Ichimonji and stood back while his crewmate slithered down the stairs and rushed off through the cargo hold toward their alcove. Only there, in the shelter of the crate fortress, could they hold a normal conversation. Zoro made his way there at a more leisurely pace, though he didn’t doubt the warning. When he got there, Sanji had already tossed off the uniform, and now threw something at him. Zoro startled but reached to catch the dinner roll. “What’s this?”

“Fresh bread. Eat it.” Sanji was already gnawing on his, both out of hunger and anxiety. “We’ve got to make some decisions fast. We’re about to be discovered.”

Zoro gave him a questioning stare, already halfway through the bread. “Huh?”

Sanji quickly related to him what he had learned topside – that the Marines had changed course to go after the ship that had brought all the escaped prisoners from Impel Down, or something like that, and they were definitely heading away from Sabaody now. And, there was a storm coming, meaning very shortly the crew would come down to secure the cargo hold. “There’s not much we can do to hide from all of them,” he said warily, thinking as much as he was talking. “They’ll see the boxes done up this way and want to move them so all the ballast weight is down the middle. No matter how much we creep around in here, we’re not going to avoid them forever.”

Zoro stood over him, arms folded. “Looks like it’s time to abandon ship. If we wait this out, we’re going to be right back where we started.”

“Possibly. I don’t know what heading we’re on, we could be heading south or due west or...” Sanji huffed and shook his head. “I know, you’re right. We need to get off this ship.”

“Nowhere near land, though,” Zoro reasoned, “so we can’t just dive off. What about the lifeboats?”

At the thought, Sanji perked up a little. “They were securing them in the center of the main deck, I saw it. Not necessarily easy to tip overboard, but a lot easier to get to.”

They both fell silent while they thought it over, and a sly grin began to fill Zoro’s face. “Sounds to me like we don’t have a choice, then.”

“No, we really don’t.” Both of them knew what they had to do without having to share with each other. Sanji sat up and pulled the duffel bag to him, rummaging around in search of anything else he could chuck out to lighten the load. There wasn’t much. He actually put his suitcoat on, preferring to have it on his back rather than in hand, and then pulled out the little backpack. Into that he stuffed what was left of their cash winnings from Esme, some bandages, and a few other supplies that wouldn’t do well if they got wet. Dry clothes would also be important but he couldn’t guarantee the water-fastness of the duffel. “Take a few minutes to eat up any food we still have back here,” he said in a low tone. “If we’re getting into a fight, it’s best to do it with full bellies.”

“Not taking any with us?” Zoro wondered.

“We don’t have room.” Sanji decided his preparations were enough and cinched both bags up tightly. Each of them could now carry a little of it. “We can survive on fish until we reach an island or get picked up.”

Zoro rolled his eyes but consented, going to where they had been keeping foodstuffs and making the most of it. Sanji helped, and together they wolfed down their last meal in hiding. It was a real now-or-never situation, and even though they couldn’t guarantee their safety or comfort from now on, it was better than riding a Marine ship headed in the opposite direction. They had their Vivre cards to navigate by, and both were healthy enough by now to be able to take turns paddling a lifeboat. Or, they could use the spare clothing to rig up a makeshift sail. Either way, they were tough enough to survive such a journey. Of course, neither of them knew just how far from Sabaody they actually were. They had slept all the way through a change of course and the better part of a day, and the changing winds ahead of the storm had given the Marine warship a good tailwind by which to make considerable headway. They were, in fact, heading back directly toward Kamabakka Island, though still a couple of days away. Still, even if they had known this, it wouldn’t have changed their plans. They had to disembark while the ship was still clear of the storm, lest their tiny lifeboat get caught in it as well.

Over the last meal, they devised a few strategies for their attack. Sanji explained exactly where on the main deck the lifeboats were now stationed, hulls up, and they determined that the best course was to bum-rush the stairs and cut their way across the deck to the boats. Zoro would cut one free, and Sanji would kick it to launch it over the side of the warship. Then, all things working in their favor, they could fight their way to the railing and jump off into the lifeboat. With any luck, the Marines wouldn’t realize who exactly was bursting out of hiding on their ship and fighting them until they were well on their way. They were in complete agreement, and nodded to one another before snuffing out the lantern for the last time and creeping out of their hiding place. Sanji had the backpack, and Zoro threaded one arm through the handles of the duffel bag so it would be mostly out of his way. He might only be able to use two of his three swords, but two were enough against most Marines. They prowled up to the stairs and took a second’s pause to gather themselves, and then Sanji rushed up to push the hatch open and set them free. Except that the hatch didn’t budge. He slammed his head into it, and then had Zoro run into him from behind. Both tumbled halfway down the stairs, cursing far too loudly.

When he had shaken off the pain and regained his wits, Sanji approached the hatch more slowly and nudged it. It only budged the width of the latch holding it down. Apparently, someone’s idea of securing the cargo hold was merely to lock the hatch, and not actually secure the cargo itself. “Shit!” he spat, and then repeated it a few more times under his breath.

Zoro said nothing for a long time, as he was actually listening to see whether their accidental tumble had raised alarms. No one seemed to have heard them, though. Before he could remark to that effect, something else had his attention. He grabbed Sanji’s arm to pull him back and shut him up. “The waves are getting bigger,” he noted. “We’re starting to pitch.”

That just set Sanji off into another round of savage cursing. “We don’t have time for this!” he growled. “It’s now or never! We’ve already waited too long!”

“So bust open the door,” Zoro said dryly.

Sanji’s shoulders wilted. He had been too angry to see the obvious. “All right,” he murmured. “They’re going to hear us coming a lot sooner, but that can’t be helped. On three?”

He turned to brace himself to launch an Anti-Manner Kick Course on the hatch, but before he could even start the count, Zoro grabbed him by the tie and pulled him around into a hard kiss. “Ready,” he said huskily afterward.

Sanji blinked himself awake from that unexpected treat and resumed where he had left off. “One, two...three!”

The wood slat splintered away from the latch holding the cargo hatch shut under one enormous kick. The hatch whipped all the way open and slammed on the floor on its other side, loud enough that there was no way anyone on that deck or near the stairs could have missed it. Both pirates flew out of the hold as one, and made it up the first set of stairs before anyone came rushing to find out what the noise was all about. Two swords were already out, and Zoro zipped past Sanji to meet the startled sailors with a quick slash. The important thing was to get to the lifeboats first, they could have fun afterward. The cook shot through the gap in bodies made for him and raced for the open air, mindful of the first shouts of “Intruders!” starting to spread through the ship. It was clear that they had already reached the stormy seas, as the deck suddenly pitched wildly and necessitated a pause to keep his balance. Marines weren’t so lucky, staggering and flailing around him. He almost felt rather than heard Zoro come up behind him and kept going, adjusting his pace to match the slanting deck of the ship. Both of them burst out into the sharp, wet wind that blasted in their faces and kept going without faltering, ignoring the wayward gunshots echoing behind them. Sanji zeroed in on the lifeboats, finding them exactly where he expected, and grabbed for Zoro’s shirt to steer him along. The ship pitched again, and they could hear shouting coming from all directions now. Then, something much nearer and harsher than thunder rang out, and the warship shuddered from something that was definitely not waves. Sanji skidded to a stop and looked around, realizing belatedly that not all of the shouting was in regards to intruders, and half the sailors on deck were paying more attention to something off the starboard side than to the pirates onboard. As they sank into a trough and the deck tilted enough, he could see what had divided their attention – there was a small ship cutting towards them on the waves, its black flag snapping in the gale.

Sanji stared in alarm. “You’ve got to be kidding,” he said to no one in particular. “We’re under attack?”

Zoro had blown past him and gone to carry out his part of the plan, managing to control his slashes to cut only the ropes and chains securing the boats down and not the boat itself. Several Marines charged him at the same time, so he whirled around and blocked all of them from connecting. “What the hell are you doing?” he yelled over his shoulder. “Get over here and do your thing!”

Another burst of not-thunder announced the firing of a second cannonball, which missed the warship but not by much. The stormy swells were making it hard both to attack and to flee. The pirate ship was flying fast on the wind, cutting up from behind and beside and swinging to fire cannons at the warship’s stern, which wasn’t nearly as armed and armored as the bow. Sanji hesitated, but then raced to join his crewmate, kicking his way through the Marines that were finally catching up to them. The forces of justice were divided, completely nonplussed by the simultaneous attack from within and without. They might have even assumed the two onslaughts were connected, though the timing was a mere coincidence. The ship rolled again as Sanji reached the lifeboat, and he nearly lost his footing under the heavy shower of sea-spray that drenched the entire deck. The storm was upon them, the skies black as night and the wind tearing at the rigging. Spatters of wind-driven rain turned into a downpour, even while the two pirates busied themselves fighting off the cadre of sailors sent to apprehend them. Sanji happened to glance toward the sea just as the unexpected ship sailed by, looping around the Marine vessel, and he was so startled by the sight that he nearly failed to duck a punch. “No...it can’t be!”

“What?” Zoro snarled over the wind as he stood with his arms straining to brace his swords against a burly sailor. “What are you gawking at, idiot?”

“Your secret admirer took your advice!” Sanji yelled back, nodding his head in the direction of the other ship as he turned and back-kicked his attacker clear out of the way.

“Huh?” Zoro allowed himself a moment to look, and he, too, stared in surprise. If it wasn’t the skull figurehead on the rear of the ship, or the flag standing out almost straight from the mainmast, he could at least recognize the name painted across the side of the hull. _The Grishend_ was indeed as fast a ship as her captain had boasted. Zoro boggled at it, not even bothering to push away his opponent. “What the hell?!”

“Hey!” the Marine snapped at him. “Pay attention, here, I’m fighting you!”

Zoro turned his head to glare at him, and then effortlessly tossed him off, flinging him and his broken saber halfway across the deck. “I’ve got more important things right now!” he shouted after the sailor.

Sanji smashed his foot into a few more faces to clear the way. “Of all the times for the lady to grow a backbone,” he complained. “Now is not the time for this!”

“Who cares, just get the boat in the water!” Zoro demanded. “Dammit – why _this_ ship? Did she know we were on board?”

“I don’t see how.” Sanji waited a moment until the pitching ship had rolled conveniently to its other side and tucked his foot under the gunwale of the lifeboat, lifting it and flinging it so that it would clear the railing of the warship and land right-side-up in the water, taking advantage of the ship’s momentum and the storm’s interference. But the ship rocked back as another cannon shot hit it, taking them out of range again. Sanji steadied himself with a fist on Zoro’s shirt, and then yelled in his ear to be heard over the rain and thunder. “Cut _all_ the lifeboats free! We’ll jump on whichever one stays intact!”

Zoro shot him a confused look, but didn’t argue. A twist and a slash and all of the boats slid across the deck, rumbling towards a bunch of sailors who didn’t get out of the way in time. More than one went overboard. The boats bumped into the railing and then slid back with another tilt of the deck. Sanji ran to them to kick them over the edge into the water, while Zoro held back and cut down anyone who tried to stop them. The warship was rolling less and foundering more, one of the cannonballs had torn through its aft and it was taking on water. The whole place was in chaos, sailors running this way and that to stop the attackers on board, defend against the ship tearing holes in their hull, and try to keep their own from sinking in the storm. The _Grishend_ was smaller and able to slice through the waves with its low, sleek configuration, so it seemed far less affected by the storm than the bigger Marine ship. It cut around and riddled the other ship with enough holes that it began to list drunkenly from wave crest to wave crest. Sanji and Zoro were about the only people able to keep their footing on deck, but barely, bracing against each other. The rain had already soaked them through, and it was getting hard to see even the white-shirted Marines stumbling around or running at them. Then, a stroke of lightning hit the mainmast above them and shattered the top rigging spar, sending splinters of wood and shards of sail cascading down onto the deck. The thunder at that close range almost split their ears. Sanji pulled at his crewmate’s arm. “Time to go!” he declared.

Zoro fully agreed. The Marines had their hands full and couldn’t mount enough of a counter-attack to stop them, and the ship was going down. Whether or not Kika’s Pirates knew they were there didn’t matter, they needed to get off the Marine warship before it sank and this was the perfect chance. The swordsman sheathed his blades and together the pair ran for the railing, leaping on top of it even as the ship lurched sideways in the trough of a wave. There were no lifeboats immediately below them, but all were floating somewhat nearby – a short swim would be required. One after the other they jumped into the sea even as the ship practically threw them into it. As they surfaced, another cannon-boom shook the air, and the bridge of the warship exploded. Tossing wet hair out of his face, Sanji began swimming away from there as fast as he could, his strong legs propelling him rapidly out of the shadow of the ships. The shouting of Marines was growing fainter, but the whole ship began to creak loudly and eddies of current swelled under the surface of the water. The cook tried to glance back and see if Zoro was keeping up with him, but he couldn’t see anything in the jumble of wave, rain, and darkness. He made for the nearest lifeboat and grabbed the gunwale, and only then got a good look at their former transport. With a start of alarm he realized it was toppling sideways into the waves, almost on top of them. He couldn’t find Zoro at all. Bellowing the swordsman’s name into the storm, he grabbed on tightly to the lifeboat even as the warship listed and crashed down on its side, flinging sailors into the sea like toys. The rush of water clashed with the waves and ripped the boat out of Sanji’s hands, plunging him under. Fortunately, he was a good swimmer even when weighed down by sodden clothing and a bag and struck out against the current, fighting his way back toward the flashes of lightning above him. Air filled his lungs as he broke the surface once more, and then a floating board struck him in the back of the head. He blacked out for an instant, but came to before he could drown and beat his way back to fresh air a second time. By then he was completely disoriented, his chest aching, and he had lost his companion. He treaded water for a bit, and then spotted the chunk of hull floating nearby, drifting closer and closer with each lashing wave. The ocean was pushing it toward him, so he kicked out and swam for it, reaching it with little effort and heaving himself onto it.

The skies were still dark as night came on behind the storm clouds, and the rain was still falling heavily, but the wind was already changing direction to push the storm onward. Sanji crouched on his hands and knees on the raft-sized chunk of the warship until he had coughed all of the water out of his lungs and caught his breath, and then lifted his head to see where he was. The waves were carrying him further away from the half-sunken ship, visible only as a dark hulk in the water some distance away. Occasional lightning flashes revealed the _Grishend_ floating along next to it, presumably raiding what was left and gloating over its victory. That ship, too, was too far away now to swim to, let alone try to board for an ironic rescue. Sanji watched in disbelief, wondering if Zoro had made it there at least. He sat up a little more and looked around in every direction, spotting struggling Marines, dead bodies, flotsam and jetsam of all types, but no swordsman. His heart began to sink, but he mustered himself and forced himself to keep looking, or to start thinking of a way out of this predicament. The wood planking was fairly secure and of a decent size to use as a raft, so for the moment he was safe enough. He knelt and swiveled around to look away from the remnants of the ship, and finally spotted a flash of green on the black water. There was a lifeboat drifting loose on the waves, or most of one, and nestled inside it was Zoro. They were too far apart for Sanji to see if he was injured, or alive even, but the fact that he had struggled aboard something to get out of the water was a good sign. He braced himself and got to his feet, cautiously riding the raft like a surfboard as it climbed the swell of a wave and sank down into the trough beyond. In those few minutes, the two makeshift craft had drifted close enough together that Sanji could see Zoro gasping for breath, his head tilted back. His bared chest bore long cuts as though something had raked across him, and he was bleeding from the temple, but definitely alive and alert. Taking a deep breath, the cook screamed across the distance to be heard over the storm. “Oi! _Marimo!_ ”

Zoro shook his head and sat up, throwing his arms out to balance the busted lifeboat. He had lost the duffel bag, but still had his swords and his life. He looked around for the voice calling him and caught sight of his crewmate even as both coasted up the crest of another swell and back down again. Now they were at least close enough to talk to each other if they yelled. “Yeah, I hear you!” Zoro shouted back, rousing himself as best he could. The lifeboat had lost part of its side, but the keel was still stable enough that it remained comfortably afloat without taking on too much water. He remained on his knees for now, and looked across the gap to where Sanji stood on his raft. “You all right?”

“Fine,” Sanji called back. “None the worse for wear.”

“Really? ‘Cause you’re bloody.”

Sanji blinked, and then reached to feel the back of his head where the plank had struck him, fisting his hand in wet hair. It came away smeared with blood. “Yeah, well, so are you,” he noted. “Can you make it over here?”

For a moment they lost sight of each other as they rode sideways over a wave. When they met again, the waves had pushed them further apart. “Don’t know,” Zoro said. “Why don’t you swim over here?”

“That boat’s not big enough anymore!” Sanji fretted. “I’d sink it just trying to climb on!”

Zoro looked down at his half a lifeboat. “Good point.”

Sanji gritted his teeth. He still had the backpack clinging to his shoulders, which meant he had all of the bandages and supplies. Their spare clothing was long gone. All the money in his bag was probably sodden, but it was little use anyway – all the beli in the world couldn’t bring them a rescue ship now. “Hang on!” he called, a little desperately. “I’ll think of something!”

Another wave came between them, and in the trough he could see that they were even further away from each other. The storm-tossed waves were washing them apart. If they waited any longer, they would be separated for good. When Zoro spotted him again, he realized the same thing and shook his head. “It’s no use. Don’t risk it!”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” The desperation was clear in Sanji’s voice now. He stood on his raft as if straining to see, his blond hair plastered to his face with rain and seawater. “Zoro!”

“Save it, Sanji!” Zoro’s head bowed for a moment, and then he was pushing himself up, wobbling before stabilizing himself on the damaged lifeboat. His use of the cook’s name proved how serious he was. Yet another swell, the crest rising like a mountain to block them from each other, and then the long rush down into the valley beyond. Yelling would now be pointless, they were too far apart. Even if he had been in any shape to swim, Zoro knew he would not make it across that distance alive. He was groggy and weighed down by his swords, which he would never part with even to save his own life. Sanji’s raft was bigger, but even he would find crossing that widening gulf difficult. Both silently came to the same conclusion at roughly the same time, as they watched each other ride up and down the sides of the waves: they would not be able to reach each other.

Sanji bit his own lip until it bled. They had been so close, they were working as a team and about to reach their goal! Getting separated now was more dangerous than it had been when they had been paw-punched off Sabaody Archipelago. His heart clenched in his chest, a tangle of conflicting emotions riding close to the surface. Then, as they came into view of each other once more, he somehow managed to meet his crewmate’s eyes, and to his astonishment Zoro raised his left arm straight up into the air, fist clenched. His dark eyes were hard and jaw set in a stony expression, but the upraised arm spoke the message clearly. Sure, the ink marks had been washed off ages ago, and his forearm was actually facing the wrong way even if he still had the x-mark, but the gesture was definite. Alabasta was far away, but the message was the same: _we are crewmates. We will meet again._

For the briefest instant Sanji’s lip trembled. Then, he reached across and pulled up the soaking-wet sleeve of both his coat and the shirt underneath so he could raise his bare forearm in the same gesture. Zoro held still, managing to keep his balance as the sea rushed and heaved underneath them, and refused to lower his arm. It was hard to tell from that distance, but he smiled very faintly when he saw Sanji give him the same message in return. It was their silent agreement to each other. No matter what was about to face them, thirst and starvation, loneliness, attack, drifting, capture, loss, they would survive it and make it back to each other. Both kept their arms in the air until the waves finally pushed them so far apart that they couldn’t see each other, and night swallowed them both up. Only then, when he no longer had any shred of sight of Zoro, did Sanji collapse to his knees on his raft. He passed out a minute or two later, and laid senseless on the chunk of ship’s hull for a long time.

 

Fortunately for the two wayward Straw Hats, fate had something else in store for them. They were not to reach Sabaody mere weeks after being separated from the others, but each had a certain place to be for a certain reason. When they finally woke up after being washed up on separate shores, each noticed the cruel sense of irony. It was as if fate was punishing them for daring to join together and fight against it; landing back on the same islands each had started from was beyond ridiculous, it was downright stupid. At least, Sanji definitely thought so as he blinked his eyes open to find a ring of poorly-disguised male faces staring down at him with evil glee. A pink heart-shaped flower petal drifted down on the wind and came to rest on his chest, adding insult to injury – and he knew if he didn’t get up and start running, he was about to be injured all right. Zoro, meanwhile, pushed himself up to find a line of armed baboons blocking his path, the towers of the creepy house he vaguely remembered from weeks ago visible above the trees. No matter how tired, hungry, sunburnt, and injured he was, he drew his swords on the spot, prepared to hack his way through these strange enemies and get back to the docks he knew existed somewhere on this island. Starting over was not going to be pleasant, but as each man threw himself into the fray, he thought to himself that it was better than being dead and never seeing the crew again. They had a promise to keep, not just to the rest of the crew but to one another, now. That very day, each would find out about Luffy’s message. That very day, each would make a stand and decide on his own how he would survive the next two years. That very day, both Sanji and Zoro would face the worst test of their hearts. In two years, they would find out how well they passed.

 

THE END.


End file.
